A Matter of Choice
 
by Maggie the Kitten
 
A couple are deeply troubled by the beliefs of a dear friend, and wonder if they should intervene

 © 2009 by Maggie the Kitten

Jean and James are concerned about their friend and co-worker Ashley. Can they help her? Will they help her? Will she choose to let them help her? It's all a matter of choice.

The house was quiet as the girls had gone to bed nearly an hour ago. Cleo and Marc … the two felines who’d agreed to share this house with the humans were curled up in separate chairs, dreaming of tomorrow’s breakfast. Tall, lean and incredibly handsome, known more commonly as James was holding his soul mate in his strong tattooed arms. She was the love of his life. She was blond, beautiful, brave and better known to most, as Jean.

James was half watching their second selection from Blockbuster. He was much more interested in the love story unfolding in his life than he was in the one on screen. Two weeks ago, in front of Jean’s daughters, he’d taken to one knee and offered her a ring and someone to love her for as long as she would have him.

With Jean’s wicked sense of humor she could have teased him mercilessly by drawing out her answer, but the love she felt for this man was no joking matter. It was like nothing she’d ever known before. It was what love was supposed to be. It was happiness beyond what she dreamed possible. It was a fairy tale come true. She said “YES”, almost as soon as he took the knee.

During the past two weeks, twenty years had seemed to melt away and she was as giddy as a teenager with her first sweetheart. James had noticed the smile, the blush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye. Knowing that he had put them there made him happy. Knowing he would spend the rest of his life with her, doing everything he could to keep them there put him over the moon.

As James held Jean in his arms, savouring the feeling of her body against his, he noticed something on her face he hadn’t seen in a fortnight: a worried look.

James took two fingers and gently brushed Jean’s chin to get her attention. “Hey Babe … What’s wrong? Don’t care for the movie?”

Jean, lost deep in thought, emerged from her fog. “What? … Movie? … No, really … I like it.” She forced a smile, hoping he’d buy it.

James raised an eyebrow and sighed, “Really? Is that your final answer or do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

It was obvious James wasn’t buying what she was trying to sell. She had no choice but to come clean. The smile faded as quickly as she’d put it on. “It’s Ashley … I’m worried and I don’t know what to do.”

“Ashley? Ashley from work?”

Jean nodded. James sighed knowingly as he pulled his love a little closer.

Ashley was a friend to them both, but especially Jean. She adored Jean to the point of placing her on a pedestal so high she needed oxygen to breathe. To say she was the president of the Jean D Morrison fan club was an understatement. To Ashley … Jean was her best friend and one of the most beautiful women both inside and out that she’d ever known. Hardly a day passed without Ashley telling Jean how smart, how strong, how funny, how talented, and how loving and compassionate she was.

Jean appreciated the compliments, although the steady diet of sweets often made her feel a bit uncomfortable. Still … she knew that was just the way Ashley was built and she tried to take them graciously, in with the spirit they had been given.

Ashley also thought she was the consummate mom; a real life combination of Harriet Nelson and Roseanne. Many times Ashley had closed cards and letters to Jean with this line. “To the woman I wish I could grow up to be like, and to the Mom I wish I’d had to show me the way.”

Those sentiments coming from any of her daughter’s teenage friends would be touching and give Jean warm fuzzies, but coming from a forty five year old co-worker who was nearly ten years her senior, well … they were a bit strange and uncomfortable. Unfortunately it got worse. Ashley’s appreciation for Jean’s parenting skills went beyond strange and uncomfortable. Over the last few months it had become an obsession for her and the source of great concern for Jean.

Of course to understand why a middle-aged woman would be obsessed with having a woman ten years her junior as a mother, you’d have to understand Ashley.

Ashley was a post operative male to female transsexual with obsessive compulsive disorder, dependency issues, countless phobias, an overactive imagination, 20/20 vision courtesy of her rose coloured glasses … and a disorder that Ashley herself diagnosed as “Age Dysphoria.”

Translated into plain English, Ashley was a girl who had born in a boy’s body. The boy’s body had grown up, but the little girl never had. She tended to think about things to the point of obsession. To the people she became close to, she became a black hole, draining them until they had no more to give.

Ashley could be scared by almost anything. She was a hopeless daydreamer who exists in reality but lives in the fairy tales she writes and looks at life, especially Jean’s, as if it is just another episode of the Gilmore Girls.

Jean could have accepted all of these things as part of who her eccentric friend is, and despite the difficulties, their friendship had endured as a result of, or maybe, despite Ashley’s personality quirks. Jean always had a smile and a place in her heart and her life for her Ashley girl.

However, it is the last affliction that Ashley suffers from that has troubled Jean the most, made her feel very uncomfortable at times, and eventually forced her to set boundaries to protect herself and her daughters from Ashley’s “emotional outbursts.”

Jean wanted to believe that Ashley’s self diagnosed Age Dysphoria was just a fancy name for her inner child gone wild, fuelled by her overactive imagination and lifelong desire. Ashley’s philosophy stated that within her long, lanky frame was a little girl, as real as any other and who made up about 87% of her heart, soul and mind.

Through many long conversations after work, the stories Ashley shared with her, and the occasional outings they went on, Jean had felt the presence of that inner child. She heard her in Ashley’s voice, saw her in her smiles and felt her whenever Jean gave her a hug.

Jean didn’t begrudge her friend a hug or a bit of indulgence in her fantasy. It had seemed harmless enough, at least at first. She’d had no way of knowing just how dependent and how obsessed Ashley would become, but it wasn’t long before she found out.

Ashley became so attached to Jean that she wouldn’t leave work without saying goodbye to her, and the goodbyes became clingy, tearful hug fests. Their after work chats, which used to be mixes of funny and sad stories from both their pasts, became one sided reruns of the same story, the same impossible wish, where Ashley magically became Jean’s daughter.

What started out as a seemingly harmless infatuation on Ashley’s part had turned into something so disturbing that Jean had been left with no choice but to set boundaries, which included keeping her daughters away from her friend and the crying outbursts at every goodbye.

This obsession with magically becoming Jean’s fourth daughter had really strained their friendship, but it was the latest development which threatened to destroy it, that had Jean deeply concerned.

James sighed, “It’s that thing about her wanting to be the flower girl at the wedding ceremony, isn’t it? I thought you were going to tell her we were keeping it all simple and there wasn’t going to be any flower girls, especially six foot tall ones.”

Jean shook her head, “No, it’s not that. We already discussed that and I told her she could be the flower girl at the rehearsal. She was a little disappointed, but still happy to get to toss a few rose pedals on the aisle. At least this way she doesn’t go out and spend money she doesn’t have on a custom made flower girl dress.”

James really like Ashley, too. Yes she was a bit strange, maybe more than a bit, and yes … the fact that she used to live as a boy and stand to pee sometimes made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but he’d always thought of Ashley as a girl and treated her as such.

He knew she idolized Jean. The whole company knew that, but he also knew about the little girl within Ashley who peeked out whenever she wore her pigtails, or got all “flusterpated”, or shed tears whenever it was time to say goodbye. The little girl seemed most prominent however, anytime she was with Jean. He’d read some of the stories Ashley had written casting Jean as the mother and himself as the father. He thought they were funny and sweet and imaginative, but complete and total fantasy. Ashley’s obsession about making these fantasy tales come true concerned him as it did Jean, but being Jean’s fiancé, he was even more concerned about the discomfort and worry it was causing his beloved.

“Has she started doing all that crying again? You know … like whenever you say goodbye on the weekends?”

Jean shook her head again, “No … she’s been pretty good about that. I think we’ve been almost tear free save for when we told her that we were getting married.”

James smiled, “Yeah … well you pretty much expected that didn’t you? You knew she was going cry just like the girls did. That’s why we told her at the restaurant and not work, right?”

“Uh huh … and actually she didn’t cry near as much when we dropped her off as she normally does. At least for once I didn’t feel like I was dropping her off at an orphanage.”

James chuckled as the image of Ashley in the school girl outfit she wore every Halloween at work popped into his thoughts. She really did have this whole “little girl” thing bad.

Pulling his beloved a bit closer, James nibbled at her ear. “Sooo … what’s the problem then? Does she want you to sign adoption papers and move her in?”

Jean pulled back, resisting the lure of James’ lips. “I know you just mean that as a joke, but Ashley would go for that in a second. This is starting to get serious, really serious and I don’t know what to do.”

Her eyes and voice carried sobering concern, and that got James’ attention immediately. He was all business as he squeezed her hand gently. “What is it babe? What’s our Ashley done now?”

“It’s not what she’s done”, Jean started as she wiggled to find a comfortable position. “It’s … it’s what she thinks … thinks about me.”

“Okay’, James started slowly … trying to be a calming influence for both of them. “What does she think about you? I can’t believe it’s anything bad. She thinks you can practically walk on water.”

Jean chuckled nervously, “I could handle the walking on water. It’s the flying through the air on a broom I can’t deal with.”

James heard what she said clearly, but he couldn’t believe the implications. “Wait a minute. She thinks you can do what?”

Jean confirmed her earlier statement. “You heard me right. She thinks I’m a broom jockey, a spell slinger … or known more commonly as … a witch.”

“Really?” James gave his trademark phrase in classic deadpan.

“C’mon … she doesn’t REALLY believe … I mean I know she has a lot of imagination and she really wishes you were her mom, but surely she doesn’t … I mean she can’t actually think you’re … you’re a … a …”.

“Witch?” Jean finished for him. “Oh yes she does, and I’m not talking about the kind that I have to be with the girls sometimes. You know … the one that can also be spelled with a B. I’m talking about a genuine caldron stirring, potion making, straight out of the Brothers Grimm, witch.”

James searched Jean’s eyes for some hint of a joke or a tease, but found none. Her look was all business, serious business. He understood completely, but believing was another matter.

“Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. Ashley thinks you’re a witch. You mean like someone who is into Wicca or those people who go out into the woods and chant and dance naked around the fire.”

Jean shook her head and took James’ hand in hers. “No … that I could probably deal with. Ashley thinks I’m the television kind of witch. You know … like Samantha from Bewitched or Sabrina or … or the Halliwell sisters from Charmed. She thinks I have real magic powers and can change her into a real little girl. THAT’S the kind of witch she thinks I am.”

James blew out a heavy breath. “Whoa … you’re right. This is serious. Sounds like she’s finally lost it. Do you think she’s … well, dangerous?”

“No, I don’t think she’s lost her mind, nor do I think she’s dangerous, except possibly to herself. I think she’s just so desperate for what she wants that she’s willing to believe in anything or any way she can have it.”

James pulled Jean back in for a cuddle. “That’s sad … really sad. So … what did you do when she accused you of being a witch?”

Jean eyed her beloved curiously, “Well what do you think I did? I asked her if she honestly believed I was a witch.”

“And what did she say?”

“Well … she wiped the tears out of her eyes and squirmed a bit before finally saying that she kind of thought that maybe I was a witch, or at least she hoped I was a witch.”

James freed a hand and scratched his head. “As much as I can, I can understand why she wishes she was a little girl. She got cheated. I can’t imagine how bad it had to be growing up as a boy when she knew she was really a girl. And … if she was going to pick a mom, I don’t think she could do any better than you. You’re great with your girls and mine. I can even understand how wanting something so much can make her hang on to the seemingly impossible …”

James stopped long enough to lean forward and gently kiss Jean before finishing his thought.

“… because for quite awhile you seemed almost like an impossible dream to me. But … but … I just can’t understand what could possibly make her believe that you’re really a witch. That’s not the seemingly impossible. That’s just plain impossible.”

Jean rolled her eyes. “Well … according to her, it seems I have umm … how did she phrase that? Oh yeah, I have certain witchlike qualities.”

A smile turned at James’ lips. “Really? Witchlike qualities huh? So tell me … exactly what are these alleged witchlike qualities you’ve been accused of?”

Jean took a sip of her iced tea and stole a piece of ice in doing so. She crunched the frozen water and then smiled thinly. “What is this … the Salem witchcraft trials?”

“You started the topic,” James was quick to remind her.

“Okay … okay,” she gave in. “But it was all a bunch of nothing really, just the product of Ashley’s overactive imagination.”

“I’m sure it was, but humour me, babe.”

Jean sighed and then snuggled close to James. “Alright you asked for it. Let see … well … for one thing she said I had a sort of … sparkle in my eyes and an aura that sort of surrounded me. Like I said … it’s just imagination and wishful thinking.”

James nodded. “Anything else?”

“Ummm … she did have this dream, or at least I think I’ve finally managed to convince her to see reason and accept it as a dream.”

“What kind of dream?” James asked as he reached for his Gatorade and then frowned as he found he’d drained it ten minutes earlier.

“It happened one night when she stayed here for the weekend. She was sleeping on the couch and thought she woke up and saw me floating down the stairs.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Floating?”

Jean nodded “Yeah … floating … floating, as in descending the staircase with my bare feet a good six inches off the carpet. She said she was lying on the couch and when she looked up from her pillow she saw me coming down the stairs … without using the stairs, so to speak.”

James scratched today’s beard growth. “Was the staircase trick the only one in your repertoire or did you do anything else exciting for an encore?”

Jean giggled. “No … I guess I was a one trick witch that night because she said that when I reached the downstairs I landed softly on the carpet and then walked very unwitchlike into the kitchen. A few minutes later I came out with a small dish of ice cream and then went back upstairs.”

James smiled, knowing his love had a taste for late night ice cream, among other things. “So … did you float back up the stairs?”

Jean shook her head. “No … I walked up like the rest of you mortals do. Evidently I can only float down and not up.”

“Mortal huh? James leaned down and kissed his angel passionately.

When he reluctantly pulled back, Jean licked her lips. “What is it that Shakespeare said? ‘Make me immortal with a kiss?”

James’ eyes sparkled with mischief. “In your case I think that would be immoral.”

Jean pushed out her lip and pulled a pout as she turned her face away. “Just for that I’m not going to tell you the rest of the story.”

James knew the sure cure for a pouty puss: tiny kisses on her neck that slowly worked toward her ear. When he hit the ticklish spot, she gave in with a giggle.

“Okay … okay I’ll tell you the rest, but … you better be good or I’ll turn you into a frog.”

The “Could Be Kermit” promised to be good and then was so, as he added another kiss before allowing Jean’s mouth to speak.

“Now where was I? I told you about the floating and the aura and ummm … what were the other ones? Oh yeah … according to Ashley I used proper witch protocol.”

James rolled his eyes. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Well … there she was crying her eyes out and me trying to do damage control after breaking her heart by telling her I didn’t have the power to make her dream come true. She looked up at me with those big blue eyes of hers, begging me to give her something to hold onto.”

“And I take it you did?”

Jean sighed, “All I said was that if … mind you if … I had the power to make her wish come true, I’d ask her twice and if she said yes both times, then … I’d turn her into the little girl she so wants to be and yes … I’d adopt her.”

James smiled knowingly, “Forever the sucker for stray animals and lost little kids. You always have a place for them, don’t you?”

Jean’s eyes smiled mischievously, “And don’t forget good bad boys. I’ve got a place for them too.”

“I think that place belongs to me now.” James squeezed his love a little tighter.

“Oh really?” she teased.

“Really!” James confirmed with a nibble on her ear.

Jean moaned softly and snuggled.

“So what’s this about protocol?” James broke the moment.

“Huh?” Jean reluctantly returned to Earth. “Oh yeah … proper witch protocol. According to Ashley, who is evidently an expert on these things from her countless years of reading and writing fairy tales, a witch always asks twice when she offers a wish to a umm … what would you call Ashley? A customer I guess? So anyway … since I said I would ask her twice, that proved to her I was a genuine card carrying union witch.”

James sighed, “She really puts a lot of thought into this doesn’t she?”

Jean nodded and frowned. “Too much … way too much.”

James absentmindedly reached for his Gatorade bottle and frowned again, as it was still empty. “So … was that all her evidence, or did she have anything else worthy of burning you at the stake?”

Jean popped in another piece of ice and grabbed the remote control. “That was pretty much it; nothing else really worth mentioning.”

Jean turned up the sound on the movie neither was watching.

James gently took possession of the remote and hit the mute button. “Nothing else worth mentioning? Why don’t I be the judge of that?”

Jean crunched the ice and reached for the remote. James raised it just outside her reach like a parent teasing his child. “C’mon, tell me.”

Jean rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! It’s really so ridiculous it’s not even worth mentioning, but if you insist.”

James nodded and Jean started again. “It seems the other night when we were leaving … I sort of pulled a disappearing act on her.”

“You mean you disappeared right before her eyes in a puff of smoke? Now that really is something.”

The beautiful blonde shook her head. There was a bit of frustration in her voice. “No … of course not ... be serious. It was all something very explainable, that she’s made into magic.”

“So explain already!”

“The other night when were leaving, Ashley was following Onyx (Jean’s pet name for her fleet black Mazda) down the street on her bike as she always does. Most nights when we leave together, I drive at half speed and let her stay close behind because well … she seems to get a kick out of that and I do want to be sure she gets down the street alright. There are some big dogs running loose and she’s been attacked before. Anyway … that night I was running late. I had to pick up Samantha so I didn’t have time for our usual game. I got to the corner quite a bit before she did and made the turn and headed straight for the interstate entrance. You might say I exceeded the speed limit getting there.”

James shrugged his broad shoulders, “I … I don’t get it. Where’s the Houdini in that story?”

“All in Ashley’s mind, I assure you.” Jean was quick to answer. “It seems that when she got to the corner and looked for my car I was already out of sight … probably just entering the interstate entrance. So … because she’d lost eye contact with me when I turned the corner and because she couldn’t see me once she got there, her overactive imagination kicked in and she thought that Onyx and I just disappeared in a puff of magic exhaust smoke.”

James shook his head and chuckled. “I’ll give her credit. She doesn’t miss a trick does she? You know, babe, I’ve warned you about this before, but you really do need to be more careful.”

Jean’s blue eyes flashed and her posture stiffened, “And what do you mean by that?”

James gave his best irresistible smile, “You know what I mean … you little sorceress you.”

“James Allen”, Jean started, “This isn’t funny. Are you thirsting for a fight, because if you are …”

Thirsting reminded James once again of his empty Gatorade bottle, and how there were three more ice cold ones waiting for him in the refrigerator. Ignoring his companion as he looked in the direction of the fridge, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A few seconds later, a bottle of green Gatorade came floating out of the kitchen.

James frowned, “I said blue … thank you very much.”

The green disappeared immediately and a blue bottle took its place. Jean watched in horror as it floated across the dining room.

“James … what if someone’s walking by the windows?”

With a wave of her hand the curtains in the dining room drew closed, and then with a second wave the living room curtains obeyed her silent command.

James caught the bottle. He opened it immediately and took a big drink. When he removed it from his lips he sighed. “Nothing like ice cold Gatorade right out of the fridge.”

Jean sat quietly and waited for what she knew was coming. James didn’t keep her waiting. “You know … I told you one day that you and Onyx were going to get caught.”

“Okay, okay …” Jean went immediately on the defensive. “So … once in a while I finger wiggle my way past a traffic jam or if I happen to be running really late…”

“Like you were the other night?” James cut in.

Jean sighed, “Yes … like the other night … I use a little magic to well … you know … get me where I need to go … BUT and I mean BUT … I am always discreet. I have never been caught.”

“Except for your late night ice cream run?” James added with a smile.

Jean frowned. “Okay … so that’s the exception. I’m claiming a Mulligan on that one. I thought she was asleep, and besides, it was Double Death by Chocolate. I couldn’t help myself.”

James gave her the free pass she asked for. “But what about your little traffic faux paux? I think she got you there.”

Jean’s resolution quickly returned. “I did not get caught! James … there is no way Ashley saw a thing. I made sure of that. She … she just well … she thinks she saw something she didn’t see … even if it really did happen … but I swear to you, she didn’t see it. You know I wouldn’t make that kind of mistake out in public.”

“Okay … I’ll buy that”, James stole another sip of his drink. “But what about everything else? You’ve got to admit … she’s pretty much nailed you cold as a witch.”

Jean was obviously flustered. “I’m … I’m sure there’s a perfectly rational explanation for the rest.”

“Oh I’m sure there is. Why don’t you share it with me?” James knew she was squirming on the hot seat. He couldn’t resist the urge to turn up the heat.

Jean reached for another piece of ice to cool things down. It cracked loudly when she popped it in her mouth. James waited patiently. He knew his beloved had nowhere to run.

Jean worked the ice a bit while she tried to work out the explanation of how she’d been exposed as a witch by a mere mortal that admittedly didn’t have both oars in the water.

James eventually prompted her. “Okay … so how do you explain her knowing about the proper witch’s protocol? That’s basic witchcraft 101. You and I knew the rules almost before we could walk or do the simplest spell, but … how would she come by such information? Unless … maybe you left a spell book in an open desk drawer one night and she stumbled across it?”

Jean shook her head. Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t want to beat her love’s trademark line to death, but it was the only word that fit.

“Really? Do you think that I would be so careless as to leave something like that lying around where anyone could get their hands on it. Really?”

James raised his hand and made a strategic retreat. “Okay … okay … but the fact remains. Somehow she knew.”

Jean drummed her well-manicured fingers on her knee. She looked at the television screen, not really seeing the credits for the movie she’d just missed passing by. She blinked her eyes in its direction. The DVD and television understood, and obeyed the silent command. Both powered off immediately.

“Fairy tales … I stand by my first explanation,” Jean said with conviction.

“Fairy tales?” James eyed her curiously

Jean stopped drumming and reached out her hands toward James’. He took it without hesitation.

Her eyes smiled at him. “Babe, you know full well that some of those fairy tales that people have been putting their kids to bed with for centuries have smidgens of fact in them. I can give you at least three examples that mention the proper witch’s protocol. You can bet your sweet caldron that Ashley probably knows every one of them by heart. She didn’t have inside information about my true identity. She just has a good memory for fairy tales, and a strong desire to see magic in a mortal world.”

James pulled his love back into his arms and weighed her explanation. He had to give her this one.

“Okay … I admit that she could have got that information, and possibly did get that information from the Brothers Grimm or Disney, but … now my love, we come to the heart of the matter.”

Jean batted her eyelashes innocently. She received no mercy from the judge. She dropped her head and sighed.

“You mean the whole thing about the aura and the sparkle, right?”

“Uh … huh. Can you explain that one … my future Mrs. Chesterton?”

Jean looked down at the engagement ring on her left hand. Her heart filled with love and happiness and a sense of belonging … belonging to someone who in turn belonged to her and she couldn’t think of anything more beautiful or more right. The jewel sparkled in the light and the sparkle reminded her of the one Ashley claimed to have seen in her eyes. Her smile slowly drained away.

“It … it could just be her imagination and wishful thinking?” Jean offered tentatively.

James turned his hand back and forth. “Uhhh … maybe. I’ve read some of those stories, and there’s no doubt she has all kinds of imagination and wishful thinking. I’ll even go so far to say that she wants her dream to come true so much that it’s possible her mind could see something that wasn’t there, but …”

Jean’s heart sank as her love moved in for the kill.

“The fact of the matter is … she saw something that IS there! She saw the sparkle and aura that every witch, warlock and magic user has, which can be seen by every other member of the union, but …”

“I know … I know”, Jean jumped in. “It’s something that no mortal can see unless the witch or magic user lifts the veil from the mortal’s eyes, and I swear to you, James, I never did that for Ashley. You have to believe me.”

James pulled her in close and she laid her head against his chest. “I know babe. I do believe you, but the fact remains … Ashley saw your witch’s sparkle and aura, and there is no denying that.”

“Or explaining it.” Jean added softly as she snuggled.

James seemed as stumped as his beloved. Ashley had seen Jean’s witch aura and sparkle, and yet by one of the oldest rules in witchcraft … there was no way she could have seen it.

“No … that’s impossible”, Jean said in a whisper, dismissing the ridiculous idea almost as soon as it came to her.

James however wasn’t so quick to let it go. “What is it babe? Did you find a loophole big enough for little Ashley to sneak through?”

Jean shook her head. “No … it was just a wild thought.”

James smiled seductively. “I love wild thoughts, but shouldn’t we stay focused on the whole Ashley thing?”

Jean pulled a pout. “Just for that I’m not having anymore wild thoughts for, oh, say … the next three days?”

James pulled his own pout, then offered up a little dog whimper that never failed to bring a smile to Jean’s face. This time didn’t break the streak. She relented and gave him the smile he was fishing for. He rewarded her with a kiss.

Once it broke he was back on the attack. “So, are you going to tell me what this wild idea of yours was … or do we have to play games all night?”

“Do I get to choose the games?” Jean the minx asked too innocently.

“Jean”, came James’ semi-serious reply.

“Okay”, she sighed. “You’re going to laugh because … well … the irony of it is … straight out of Twilight Zone.”

James waited silently, his eyes saying, “Okay, so tell me already.”

“The standard rule is that no mortal can see a witch’s or warlock’s aura and sparkle without their permission; however … as we both know, there are two exceptions to that rule.”

James’ puzzled expression said he wasn’t aware of said exceptions.

Jean nudged his recognition with a clue. “Remember … mortal does technically include certain non-human entities.”

James looked over at the two sleeping felines curled up in the soft chairs and then back at his love who surely must be playing one of the games she’d mentioned. “Jean, you’re talking about cats! That’s your exception? Yes, felines have an innate ability to sense our powers. That is why they become our familiars, but in case you haven’t noticed … Ashley has two legs, no tail and no whiskers, courtesy of electrolysis. I know one of her nicknames is Kitten … but what you’re suggesting is just ridiculous.”

Jean giggled. She loved it when James got all flustered. He was so cute then. Well, actually, … he was always cute, but especially so then.

“No silly. I’m not suggesting that she’s a cat. I was just pointing out what the first exception to the rule was.”

“And as far as I was ever taught at good ol’ Little Witches and Warlock Elementary … THAT is the only exception.” James leaned back and folded his arms against his chest, resting his back and his case.

“There is one other”, Jean offered meekly.

James shook his head. “I don’t know of any …”

And then the penny dropped. “Hey … I know you can’t possibly mean THAT? C’mon … that’s … that’s like getting me to eat a green vegetable other than lettuce. What are the odds on that one? A million to one?”

“There have been over a hundred reported cases.” Jean was struggling to maintain her shaky premise.

James rubbed today’s chin growth. “And how many of those one hundred cases were ever actually confirmed?”

“Three”, Jean squeaked.

“So … in the last eight hundred years that the World Witch and Warlock Registry have maintained records on this, there have been THREE confirmed cases of child enchantment, and you think our Ashley makes the fourth?”

Jean threw up her hands, “Yes … maybe … no … oh, what the hell! I don’t know. Honestly, James, I just don’t know. I know … I know, every bit of rational thought and magic training we’ve received says that … that … there is no such thing as a Peter Pan Kid: a magically enchanted child that never grows up even though her mortal body grows old. But with Ashley … I … I just don’t know. There’s … there’s …” Her voice trailed off.

“Something special about her?” James finished for his frustrated partner.

“Yes, damn it! Yes! At first I just thought it was the transsexual thing, and how she never got the chance to be a little girl, and then I thought it was just her imagination and inability to cope with reality, but … I feel like it’s more … deeper than that. You know how she is at work sometimes, but those are just tiny glimpses of the little girl within: smiles, giggles, hugs … and mostly, those big blue eyes filling with tears when we leave at night but … it’s much more than that when we’re away from work. When we get out … especially with the girls … it’s … it’s like a transformation … only without any finger wiggle magic on my part, I swear.”

Jean raised her hand to her face and made a peace sign just below her nose. The universal sign for a witch or warlock’s solemn promise removed any doubt James might have had that his love had a hand in the magic that was Ashley.

His nod and understanding look told Jean he believed her. It encouraged her to continue.

“It’s amazing. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. She gets with the girls, and somehow … becomes one of them. As soon as she sees them … the transformation occurs. She’s all hugs and giggles and excited through the roof. Five minutes later she’s tagging after them like their long lost little sister.”

Jean sighed, shaking her head as a small smile peeked out. “You should have seen her and Samantha at King’s Island. Sam was watching out for her like the Ashley was the little sister … worried about her getting sick on the rides, and then when they ran through that sprinkler maze; Oh my God, two little bony butts soaking wet and having the time of their lives. They’d be twins if … if …

“If it wasn’t for the fact that she was six feet tall, older than you are, and has a voice like a low note on Samantha’s bass,”, James finished for her as a knowing smile turned at his lips.

Jean eyes misted as she forced her own smile. “Yes … yes … that’s it. Take away the adult body, and there isn’t much left besides kid. Even her speech and body language takes on childlike qualities when she’s around the girls.”

“Or even just around you.” James was quick to point out. “It’s like night and day. One minute she’s this tireless adult factory worker sending product down the line at light speed, and then you come into work and then … then it’s like a switch flips, and there’s this little girl who acts and reacts pretty much like any other.”

“Yeah … that’s pretty much the way I see it, too. I walk in and she lights up like I’ve come to collect her from day care.” Jean looked down into her empty glass and frowned. A few finger wiggles later it was overflowing with ice. She started to pick out a piece but sighed in frustration and set the glass on the table.

“I just don’t know what to do. I’ve talked to Ashley. I’ve tried to be patient and understanding and sympathetic … but she just gets more and more attached to me. Finally, she forced me to put up boundaries to keep a level of comfort for me and the girls … but the truth of the matter is, nothing really seems to work. That little girl within the big one just keeps begging to me to save her and … and I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

James pulled Jean in and worked the very mortal, but nonetheless magic properties of his strong arms holding her tight. He rocked her as if she were the child that Ashley so longed to be, and just possibly might be.

“She kind of gets to me, too”, he confessed as he rubbed Jean’s back.

Jean looked up and wiped a tear away. “Really?”

James sighed, “Yeah … really. There’s been a few times when we’ve had lunch together, just the three of us and she gets all ‘flusterpated’ when we tease her and … well … she does kind of remind me of my twins sometimes. And the tears she sheds when we drop her off at her place after we’ve done dinner or something … those are genuine kid tears. Lord knows, I’ve seen enough of them as a parent. ”

Jean nodded her understanding and agreement.

“And ... I really don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that she wears her hair up in pigtails or cultivates an adult sized Disney princess look. It’s … it’s more of a … a …”

“Essence?” Jean offered with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah … that works: essence. Sometimes it’s so strong that I almost forget she’s not one of your girls … that is … until I look at her.”

“Then you know what I’ve been going through. She’s like this stray kitten, who no matter how much I try to shoo her away, just keeps showing up at my door looking all pitiful and wanting me to adopt her. It’s driving me crazy, and I don’t know what to do.”

Jean laid her head on James’ shoulder, wishing he could chase away this problem and so many others. James could sense Jean’s need, and with all his heart he wished he could use his powers to make her troubles and pain just disappear, but that was beyond even a Warlock of his skill. In lieu of that, however, perhaps he could help her solve the problem.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said softly in her ear.

“About what?” Jean sleepily smiled up at her love, quickly getting comfortable in his arms.

“About the child enchantment. Maybe Ashley is the fourth true Peter Pan Kid. If you were to confirm that … you wouldn’t have to worry about what to do, the Book leaves no doubt as to your required course of action.”

Jean lifted her head, the look in her eyes saying she was wide awake now. “You’re right about that. We all know that one by heart.”

Jean quoted one of the well known commandments from the Book of Magic. “Any magic user who confirms a case of child enchantment is bound by the words and the spirit of this book, to lift the spell, make the child whole … AND to care for this child as his or her own.”

Jean giggled when she finished. “I remember back at the academy … we used to call that one the ‘You find it, you fix it, you bought it!’ rule.”

James smiled and nodded. “We called it ‘Instant Parenthood’ … just add magic and you’re a father. Not exactly my favorite way to be a Dad … It sort of takes the fun out of it, if you know what I mean.”

The sly grin Jean gave him and the way she gently caressed his thigh said she understood completely.

“Still …” He struggled to stay focused on the topic at hand and not on the one so close to Jean’s. “If you want to know for sure … If you want to know if Ashley is suffering from child enchantment, you can find out. If she’s not … then … according to the rules we’ve agreed to live by when we received permission to live among mortals, there’s nothing more you can do. However, if she is an enchanted one … well … then according to the Book of Magic, which supersedes those rules, you will have no choice what to do. At the moment, you can walk away free and clear, but … if you really want to find out what she’s made of … you have to accept the responsibility that could go with it.”

“You’re right, babe. That’s exactly what I’d be doing. Any time, or for that matter, any way you take on a child … you’re taking on a tremendous responsibility. And … even as much as I love her, I just don’t know if I want to do that. I’ve already dedicated nearly twenty years of my life to raising the girls and perpetuating the coven, but I don’t regret that, well … at least most of the time,” she added with a wry smile.

“But … I just don’t know if I really want to do it again. I swore after Samantha, I’d never buy another set of training wheels for a toddler broom.”

“I’ve been pretty much the same way after my twins. Talk about double trouble! Try getting caught in the cross fire between two junior witches fighting over a toy cauldron or a Barbie Dream Dungeon and Warlock Ken.”

“Been there … done that!” Jean testified as she crunched her ice.

James stole a piece of Jean’s ice, drawing him her pouty look for his theft. He quickly chased it with a gulp of Gatorade and a comment.
“I just want you to know something.” James looked into her eyes lovingly. “When I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me, that meant for better, for worse, and for any additional little witches or warlocks that might come our way; regardless how they come our way. If you want walk away from this, I’ll support that, and if you want to find out, I’ll support that, and any added responsibilities that may come from it. Whatever you choose, I’m okay with it.”

Jean looked at the man who completed her and felt more love coming from him and going out to him, than she’d ever dreamed possible. Each day she loved him more than she thought possible, and then the next day would come and break the previous day’s record. This was yet another record breaking moment.

“It means everything to me that you would willingly allow me to make a choice that would so dramatically affect both our destinies, and yes … I’ll admit it. Even though I hadn’t really wanted another child … I do love Ashley, and well … I know how happy she would be. What’s another set of training wheels, anyway? Right? But … as you’ve said so many times before, ‘We’re a family now’. I can’t make this choice alone, and I won’t. WE have to make it.”

James pulled his beloved back into his arms and held her close. His love for her transcended both the mortal and the magic user realm. In all realities and every way, she was everything to him. Her happiness, her sadness, her wants and needs were his. As long as she was happy, he was happy, and he could never happy as long as she was hurting. Right now … she was hurting, and he was pretty sure he knew what she needed to do to stop the pain, their shared pain.

James slipped an arm from around Jean and extending his hand toward the window, managed a little finger wiggle magic. The curtains immediately obeyed and opened to reveal the night sky.

“Last night of the full moon”, he said with a smile. “If we’re going to do it this month, then it has to be tonight.”

Jean nodded and then kissed her love, thanking him in her own special way for his willingness to help their friend and to take on such a responsibility.

Breaking the kiss, she was soon a witch on a mission. “Okay … we have a full moon. Time! It’s umm …” She made a quick glance at the clock. “Half past midnight. Ashley should be sound asleep by now.”

“Incantation?” James added to her check list.

“Right!” Jean looked over at her sleeping familiar. “Miss Cleo … wake up and do something besides eat and sleep.”

The Reubenesque feline raised her head and gave her mistress a most annoyed look. Nonetheless, she knew who held the can opener at this castle, so she slowly made her way to Jean’s feet.

“I need the Incantation from the Book.”

“This means you too, Marc,” James … prompted his sleeping feline familiar.

Marc matched Cleo’s annoyed look, but also shared her love of food, and soon joined her at Jean’s feet.

In accordance with the rules agreed upon, and to keep magic using to a minimum while living among mortals, Jean and James had agreed to leave possession of their copy of the Book of Magic with their familiars for safe keeping. It also helped remove the temptation of casting an impulse spell.

The two cats looked at each and then at their associates. They waited patiently for the necessary promise.

Jean raised the sign just below her nose. “I accept responsibility for the spell I am about to cast.”

When James repeated the sign and pledge, the two cats placed their paws together and the Book of Magic instantly appeared on the coffee table.

Jean wasted no time in thumbing through it until she found the incantation for child enchantment. She opened the end table drawer, then frowned. She looked pleadingly at James. “Don’t suppose you have pen and paper handy?”

James smiled and with a snap of his fingers, a writing quill, an ink well and parchment appeared before the lovely young witch.”

Jean rolled her eyes, “Okay, show off! All I really wanted was a notebook and a ball point pen.”

James shrugged his shoulders while Jean dipped the quill into the ink and wrote down the words they needed to lift the enchantment, should they find out that Ashley was a confirmed number four.

No sooner than she’d scribbled the last word, the book disappeared, returning to the place only Cleo and Marc knew. The two cats, their work both done, looked pleadingly across the room at their empty food dishes.

Jean shook her head but as usual, was a soft touch and seconds later the scent of fresh tuna had the big cats heading for the dinner bowls.

“Okay”, Jean went down the list again. “We have the full moon, a sleeping Ashley girl, the incantation and … and …”

“Ashley’s consent?” James added again.

Jean smiled, “I already have that. As if I was playing along, I asked her if that was what she wanted one day and she answered ‘Yes’. Then a few days later I asked her the same question, and again, she answered ‘YES!’ quite vehemently.”

James nodded. “Well, sounds to me like we have everything we need except for the soul sand.”

Jean melted into the couch. “Oh geez … I forgot about the soul sand.”

“You don’t have any on hand? A witch without soul sand?”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “Well … since we agreed to live pretty much as mortals … it’s not like I have a great need for potions anymore and it’s not like I can pick that up at the Walgreens, you know.”

Jean glanced up at the clock. “And my regular Apothecary is closed. He’s getting up in years now and doesn’t like to keep late hours.”

James smiled devilishly, knowing the answer before he asked the question. “We could always pop over to Witchmart. They’re open 24 hours. All we have to do is follow the bouncing magic ball.”

If James was looking for sparks, he found a blaze in Jean’s eyes. “You know how I feel about that place. They treat their workers worse than mortals. Why I’d ride my broom to the moon to get green cheese before I’d buy it from those blood sucking toads.”

James chuckled as he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag. “Which is why I stopped at your apothecary and picked up a little soul sand on my way home.”

Jean’s eyes went wide. “Then … then you suspected all along?”

“Well …actually, I had thought about Ashley’s condition being child enchantment for quite some time, but I hadn’t brought it up. I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”

Jean folded her arms. “Like the way you made me think I was crazy when I brought it up?”

“Okay that’s one way to look at it, but I think the important thing to remember is that we eventually came together on it.”

Jean smiled devilishly and punched her fist into her palm. “Here’s another way to look at it. You … let me go on and on like that … getting all … all … emotional.”

James leaned back against the couch assuming a defensive position. “I would like to take this opportunity to remind you of how much I love you and how much you love me.”

Jean raised her right hand, fingers ready to do damage. “I really ought to give you a good whipping.”

A smile spread across James’ face. “Really?”

It quickly disappeared as he tried to feign fear and disappointment. “I mean … really?” He added sadly, “I guess that was pretty bad of me. I suppose I deserve whatever punishment you deem necessary. I’ll go get the cat of nine tails.”

James was already rising out of the couch before the rest of his body offered to move.

Jean rolled her eyes and then sat down on his lap. A grunt and then a moan escaped his lips.

Jean leaned forward wiggling her bum a little. “Yes … you have been a bad boy and I’ll take care of that later, but we need to get to Ashley’s flat while we still have the moon. Now, do you need a few minutes … or are you ready to go?”

James blew out a heavy breath, “I’m ready … to go, that is.”

Jean kissed him teasingly and then rolled off. “Alright then … my broom or yours?”

James sighed. “Why don’t you let me drive? I need to get my attention on something else.”

Jean giggled as she observed the tent in his trousers. “Yes … I think you do.”

James made no comment on the subject Jean had raised. He simply offered his hand to his love and she took it willingly. With a wave of his free hand, he closed the curtain Jean had opened earlier and then with a snap, the pair disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Ten minutes by car on a light traffic day, took seconds by magic express. Jean and James appeared in Ashley’s one room flat. In the event that their friend could be awake, they had appeared in stealth mode. Seeing Ashley and her cat Muffin sleeping peacefully in her bed, the pair became visible.

Jean looked around the sparsely furnished flat. It was truly a reflection of the conflict of life and body that Ashley had. Her work uniforms were hung neatly on a rack, and a tea kettle with one cup spoke of her addiction to the British drink. These things belonged to the big girl who came to work and did what she had to do to survive.

Next to the drab uniforms were several play dresses and overalls, no doubt custom sewn to fit the little princess in the queen sized body. Hair bows and ties sat on a mirrored dresser, along with a stack of coloring books and a box of crayons.

A quick look toward Ashley’s bed found two pictures on a nightstand. One was a group photo of Jean and her daughters. The other was the picture of a little girl that Jean had drawn for Bug on her birthday. They were precious masterpieces to the big little girl now sleeping.

Jean walked over and sat down on the edge of Ashley’s bed. Her presence woke Muffin who raised her head and then seeing it was a friend, stretched out a paw in Jean’s direction. Jean knew the drill and gave the fluffy feline a good scratch behind the ears.

With a wave of his hand, James coaxed low light from the lamp at Ashley’s bedside, revealing the sleeping woman curled up holding her stuffies close. ‘She even sleeps like a kid,’ he thought at Jean.

Jean watched her friend sleep. Depending on the results of this test, she would either wake up and face the day the same as she had any other, or … she would wake up to the first day of a new life … and what she would think was a dream come true.

James lowered the light again and then opened the curtains. The moonlight poured in, bathing Ashley in a cool blue hue.

James reached out his hand to Jean who took it without hesitation. ‘Well, babe … we’ve got the moonlight, a sleeping kid, the magic words and the magic sand. I think it’s now or never. If you have any second thoughts, now is the time to voice them.’

Jean sighed heavily. Her wonderful warlock was right. It was the moment of truth and the truth was … she had doubts. No … the doubts weren’t about accepting the responsibility that came with Ashley being an enchanted child. The doubts were about what she would do if she found out her friend wasn’t.

Actually, she shouldn’t have any doubts if that occurred. According to the agreement both she and James had signed when they’d agreed to live among mortals, their magic use was severely restricted. Despite the fact that either of them had the power to easily grant Ashley her wish, they were forbidden to use it. Should she fail the child enchantment test and Jean decide to break the agreement and use magic to change her, it might well be the last spell she ever cast. Best case scenario, the Guild’s Council of Elders would strip her of her powers. She would not just live among mortals, she would become mortal, and as her accomplice, James would suffer the same fate. Worse case scenario involved a lily pad built for two.

Common sense made this a no-brainer. Any smart witch or warlock, would read the incantation, sprinkle the soul sand and wait to see if a child appeared where an adult once slept. If you get the rug rat, you take her home and add another dependant to your tax return. If it doesn’t … you walk away without wiggling a finger.

However, maternal instinct and common sense rarely go hand in hand. Yes, Jean had been of two minds about whether or not Ashley was an enchanted child, and whether she wanted to take on the responsibility of being her mother, but as she watched her clutching her stuffed baby … the love Jean felt for her friend removed any lingering doubts about accepting her as her daughter. It was a done deal, with or without magic.

Jean looked deep into James’ eyes. The moonlight gave her an angelic glow that made her heavenly beautiful to her love.

‘I … I don’t want to do the test,’ she confessed.

’Really?’ James appeared astounded at her decision.

Jean raised a hand before he could comment further. ‘Wait … I’ve been thinking about something … something you’ll probably think is crazy because … well it probably is crazy, but it’s the way I feel and … and …’

‘And that’s all that matters babe.’ James caressed the soft hand in his and gave Jean a loving smile. ‘So tell me what’s on your mind.’

Jean drew from James’ love and steadfast belief in her to find the words. ‘It’s .. it’s a lot of things. For one … this whole enchantment test. Who says it really proves Ashley is truly a child trapped in an adult body?’

‘The Guild’s Council of Elders, the Book of Magic, and a belief system witches and warlocks have held to be true for nearly ten thousand years.’

James didn’t like being cast in the role of devil’s advocate, but his beloved had left him no choice.

Jean knew what he was trying not to do, and how difficult it was for him to do it. She appreciated the sacrifice and welcomed the opportunity to say what she felt in her heart.

‘The Council of Elders is a bunch of old pompous cranks. The Book of Magic was written by a half dozen drunken witches and warlocks during a magic convention in London, and as far as our time honoured belief system, the greatest minds in the mortal world once believed the world was flat. We both know how that one worked out. The point is … I don’t think who Ashley truly is should be decided by those things.’

‘And who do you think is qualified to make that choice?’

Jean returned her gaze to Ashley’s sleeping form. Her friend’s hopes and dreams could very well hinge on the argument she was presenting. ‘Why not ask Ashley? Don’t you think after forty years of existence she should have a pretty good idea of who she truly is? She knew she was a girl when no one else believed she was. Her successful transition proves she knew what she was talking about. Well … she says she’s a little girl. She says it in her stories, her smiles, her tears, her hugs and she’ll tell you straight out if you ask her. Seems to me her opinion should count for something.’

James nodded. He couldn’t argue with her logic … at least so far.

‘And there’s you and me. We both think she’s a little girl or damn close to one. We’ve both said it. The only thing about Ashley that isn’t a child is her body, the image she presents. Well … one of the first things we learned at the Little Witch and Warlocks Academy was images mean nothing!’

Jean raised her free hand, and then with an expert finger wiggle she set out to prove her point. In a blink of an eye, Jean’s slender sexy female form was gone and its place stood a large grey elephant. The plump pachyderm filled Ashley’s tiny room. James quickly found himself pinned to the wall. The elephant’s trunk came round and kissed him on the nose.

James grunted as his ribs felt the pressure of his two ton lover’s hips against him. ’Talk about thunder thighs,’ he groaned a thought at her.

Then his two legged love returned as quickly as she’d left. James let out a relieved sigh. ‘Why does your favorite animal have to be an elephant?’

Jean giggled, kissing him on the nose once again. ‘Because my other favorite is a whale, and then there’s all the water damage afterwards.’

James returned the kiss, only dropping down to meet Jean’s lips. When the kiss broke, Jean was back on the attack.

‘Image is nothing. Any first year magic student can shape shift into a dozen different animals and alter her age or gender. So … throw out the body, and what’s left? I’ll tell you what’s left. What’s left that really means anything: her mind, her heart and her soul. Well … I don’t know about you, but I think there is a lot of little girl in those things when it comes to Ashley.’

‘Babe you do know what I think and I agree with you. There’s no doubt that in her heart and her mind she wants to be a little girl, believes she is a little girl and therefore probably is. As for soul … well … perhaps there too, but according to the Book, those are all clear cut signs of child enchantment. So … why not just give her the test, cast the spell and we’ll take her home?’

Jean shook her head, ‘No … it’s not right. Even if she passes the test it’s not. I … I really didn’t think about it until I got here and sat on her bed and watched her sleep. She’s not just a nameless, faceless mortal; she’s my friend, and I love her. Her destiny is squarely in our lap.’

‘Which is where she will be if she passes the test.’ James flashed a smile hoping to calm his emotional soul mate.

Jean got up and walked to the window. She gazed out at the moon, taking a few moments to find just the right words to express the powerful emotions within. When she turned to face James, she hoped she’d found them.

‘Because you and I are magic users, do you think we are better than mortals?’

James was caught a bit off guard by the question, but it was an easy one. ‘Of course not! You know how I feel. It’s the same way you do. Witches and warlocks aren’t better, we’re just … different. Yes … we have some powers that mortals don’t, but that doesn’t make us better or superior. If we felt that way … we wouldn’t have petitioned the Council to let us live among them. We love the way they live life … actually doing things, as opposed to just snapping your fingers or waving your hands. There’s a joy, a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction in really doing things … even if they’re less than successful. Are we different? Yes! Are we superior? Absolutely not!’

Jean smiled. She’d gotten the reaction she knew she would get. If James didn’t share her feelings on this matter, he couldn’t have been her soul mate.

‘So … what gives us the right to judge Ashley? I’m not superior? You’re not superior? Despite what the Council of Elders may think … they are not superior, and certainly none us of is all knowing! Can you sit there and honestly tell me that you or I, or some damn hocus pocus test has the right to judge Ashley’s soul or determine her destiny? … Or for that matter ours … because if she passes the test, she’s ours, lock, stock and pigtails.’

Jean had raised some valid points. She’d always been a bit of a maverick witch at the academy. She was well known for challenging the establishment, questioning the unquestionable, championing the underdog mortal, bending rules on occasion, and breaking them when necessary. Her passion for the truth, coupled with her strength and compassion were some of the main reasons he’d been drawn to her. The way she filled out her school gown was another.

Jean was a bit angry … but that anger was not compromising her judgement. Her points were well taken. Was it right for Ashley … to be or not to be a little girl … to be decided by moonlight, a few words, a handful of dust and a group of witches and warlocks who had never met her? For James and Jean … whether or not they would set another cereal bowl at the breakfast table tomorrow would be decided by these same things. Looking at it that way in the cold light of reality, and not magical moonlight, James couldn’t argue with his beloved and didn’t want to. She was right. This was wrong.

Jean could see she had reached James with her words. She quickly crossed the room and offered him her hand. He took it as always, and they sat down on the end of the bed. Her mind’s voice softened, but the power and passion of her words had not lost their intensity. ‘James … courtesy of my ‘elle fat’ you have to agree that form or body really doesn’t mean much when it comes to who we truly are.’

‘Yes … you showed me the painful truth of that.’ James rubbed his sore ribs and groaned.

Jean smiled apologetically and continued. ‘We’ve both agreed that her mind and her heart is that of a little girl, at least for the most part.’

James nodded.

‘Well then … if we consider the body to be irrelevant, and her mind and heart to be mostly little girl, then that only leaves us with her soul. Do you think she has the soul of a little girl?’

It was a question James had not been prepared to answer. ‘I … I don’t know. I … think so, but I’m not sure. Maybe … maybe not. How can you possibly judge someone’s soul?’

Jean’s eyes sparkled a brilliant blue. ‘Exactly! How can I or anyone else? I’m her best friend. I know her better than anyone, and I can’t say she has the soul of a little girl. Like you … I … I think she does … but I don’t know and I’m not qualified to judge her soul, but neither is a handful of magic sand and a group of old crones who think of mortals as one step above livestock!’

If Jean had been teetering on the brink of heresy, she’d finally gone over the edge. Her last statement was full blown blasphemy, and she wasn’t done yet. ‘It isn’t fair to Ashley, and it isn’t fair to us. Don’t you think the choice of whether or not she becomes our daughter should really be up to us and not some test? Don’t you think she should be with us because we love her and want her? Don’t you think the fact that she loves us and wants to be part of our family means something? And how can you not take into consideration that we both know that being a little girl and our daughter is the only thing in the world that will ever give her true peace and joy, and a desire to live?’

A single tear traced down Jean’s lovely face. James took a finger and gently wiped it away, wishing he could wipe away anything that caused his beloved pain, but at least this was a shared pain. He could not argue with a single point she raised. Her words were true, and he shared her passion for them. It seemed terribly unfair to Ashley and to both of them, but life is unfair, even to magic users.

‘Babe I don’t like this any better than you do. You’re right. It’s unfair. It sucks. Ashley shouldn’t need to pass a test and we shouldn’t need permission to use magic and adopt her … but … those are the rules. It’s the rules that we grew up with and the rules we both agreed to when the Council of Elders gave us permission to live among the mortals. I know it’s difficult to live in a world with so much suffering and not be able to wiggle a finger to change it.’

‘James, I’m not talking about changing the world. I’m not asking for world peace. I can’t even get peace at my own dining room table!’

Jean trembled as she squeezed James’ hands. ‘We don’t have the ability to change the world, I know that and I’m not so sure I’d want to if we did, but we do have the magic to change Ashley’s world and our own little world. And … well … damn it! What’s the use of having the ability to help someone who desperately wants you to help them, in a way that you know will help them … if you’re not allowed to use it? And … if we don’t help her, who will? How many other magic users live on our block, and even if one did … do you really think they’d be willing to lift the enchantment … assuming that’s what it is, and then take on the responsibility? How many other witches or warlocks would be willing to put their powers on the line for one mere mortal?’

James sighed and then smiled. ‘I have a feeling I’m looking at least one who would.’

’And am I looking at one?’ Jean asked hopefully. ‘Because no matter how strongly I feel about this, I won’t lift a finger to break the rules unless you agree with me … unless you really want to do this too. We’re a team. We’re family. I love you in ways I never knew love was possible. You complete in ways I never knew I was incomplete. I can’t and I won’t ask you to jeopardize your position as a warlock or to do anything you don’t believe in, no matter how much I believe in it. I think we take this stand together, come what may, or ... we walk away from it all and not look back. Either way, babe, we have to do it together.’

James didn’t comment immediately. He looked at the woman he loved, who unbelievably, loved him. She was beautiful in every way measurable. Her presence gave him a joy, an energy and sense of pride he’d never experienced before. Her smile, her touch, the sound of her voice … were magic, stronger magic than anything he’d ever learned to master. He hadn’t truly been alive until he’d met her and he couldn’t imagine life without her. He loved everything about her; especially her passion and not just the kind they shared after the kids were in bed. She had true passion for what she believed in and cared about. She believed in the right of her friend to live … as who and what she felt she was. She believed in their right to choose whether or not to help that friend, and she believed that they should have the choice when it came to taking responsibility for another life in this world. She believed all those things and … so did James.

‘Honey … I feel the same way, and … well … I know it might mean I will actually have to walk to the kitchen to get my Gatorade and I won’t be able to magically relocate those trees that seem to keep getting in the way of my golf ball … but yes … if we have to suffer the wrath and lose our powers …or even worse … I’m willing to do it … because it is the right thing to do … for Ashley and for us.’

Happy tears welled in Jean’s eyes as she pounced on her handsome and wonderful warlock.

James rocked her in his arms, savouring the feel of her body against his and so happy he could make her happy. Hopefully … he might have something yet up his sleeve that would make her even happier.

James reluctantly removed Jean’s face from chest. ‘Yes … I’m willing to face the music, even if it’s country.’

Jean wrinkled her nose. They both had distaste for country music.

‘But … there might be another way you know, a way to skip the enchantment test, use our magic to transform Ashley and … without all the heat of a Salem Witchcraft trial.’

Jean perked up. ‘I’m all ears.’

James struggled to draw his attention away from a pair of parts that had absolutely nothing to do with hearing. ‘What if … what if … we could apply to the council for a special dispensation to use major magic this one time? You know … sort of like a hardship situation? We could explain the unique circumstances with Ashley, possibly raising some of the umm … less inflammatory points of your argument? Perhaps we could offer some minor concessions on our part. You know … like maybe we might be willing to actually show up for mandatory coven meetings occasionally.’

Jean smiled sheepishly. She was always the little irritant in the Council’s backside and the one who moaned about having to attend the little black outfit affairs, but if there was a way to do this with the council’s blessing she was all for it.

‘That sounds like a great plan … if it had a snow ball’s chance in a pot of boiling oil. But c’mon James … You know how they are. It could take years just to get them to even entertain such a petition, and then another century or two to get those fat assed broom jockeys to render a ruling on it. And looking for mercy from those cold hearted, burned out, blue nosed old farts …’

‘Wasn’t easy … but I did it, so stop before they change their mind already.’ James quickly pulled a signed piece of parchment from his jacket pocket and shoved it in front of his love’s eyes, proving his claim and hoping to disengage her mouth.

It was successful. She was speechless.

James smiled and pulled her in for a hug. ‘I’m sure you have a thousand questions, and once you regain the power of speech, I’m sure you will ask them.

‘Look … I’ve known for a long time about how Ashley has felt about you. She’s my friend too, and remember ... I’ve read those stories she wrote and I’ve seen all those looks. I also know you and I know how you’ve felt about her and how frustrating this has all been. You wanted to help, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to give the kind of commitment and take the risks that go with the help.

‘To tell you the truth … I pretty much felt the same way … at least until last Christmas. I saw her with the girls and the way she was with you and you with her, and I knew she belonged with us. I also knew … that you knew … and that meant it was only a matter of time before you did something, so I went to work trying to do something. You wouldn’t believe the favors I had to call in just to get an audience with the council.

‘And … we … mostly you that is … have a few people there who aren’t exactly fond of you and that is putting it mildly. Trust me … it was a hard sell, and I had to make some promises I’ll discuss with you later, but long story short … they gave us permission. I only got the signed papers this afternoon. I’m glad you didn’t push this any sooner. We may not have been able to get a happily ever after out of this.’

Jean wiped the happy tears from her eyes. She didn’t know if she should kiss him for what he’d done or spank him for not telling her what he’d been up to. He would consider either one a treat, so it really didn’t matter. Since the cat of nine tails was not handy and her lips were … she planted them on him.

They held the kiss and each other for long moment and then reluctantly broke it as she’d regained the power of speech.

‘You’re right … I do have lots of questions, but I will only ask one … for now. Why didn’t you tell me?’

James sighed, ‘It wasn’t easy keeping this from you. I hate keeping anything from you, but … I didn’t know if it would work, and I didn’t want you stressing over it and I definitely didn’t want you storming the Council chambers, but the main reason was … I felt I had to give you the freedom to find your own way on this. You had to decide if you thought Ashley might be suffering from child enchantment. You had to decide if you wanted to test her and take on the responsibility should she pass the test, and you had to decide if you wanted to tell the council to stuff the test and do it your own way. Yes, the final decision would be ours, but you had to come to this point on your own. I couldn’t help you.’

‘They told me quite a lot, and told me I must pass it on to you. You know that story that there have been only three confirmed cases of child enchantment in a hundred cases?’

She nodded.

‘You’ve heard of statistics, of course. Well, that three in a hundred is the percentage of suspected child enchantment cases that are tested and test positive before a transformation is attempted.

‘In the other ninety seven percent, the attempt is made either by the witch, warlock or pair, without asking the council for a dispensation, or after asking for one and receiving it.

‘Actually, doing the test, or asking for the dispensation is a test, not of child enchantment, but of the member of the guild. Choosing to ask for a dispensation and twice asking the person as part of the transformation indicates the high level of responsibility guild council members should have.

‘But the person to be transformed, whether pre-tested or not, must truly be a child in their heart and soul and answer the question twice as part of the transformation spell, or it will not work.

‘We are deliberately not taught that. How we handle it is a test of us.

They also never mentioned that our passing the test is but one of the tests we must pass before we can even be considered for council membership. Passing shows the level of responsibility and compassion required of council members is not a guarantee of future membership, but failing it or any of the other tests is a guarantee we will not be considered.’

‘Did they say what other tests there are?’

‘No, except for one. Nobody ever reaches the council who has not of their own free will, asked to spend a lifetime as a mortal.’

Jean was thoughtful for a moment before she smiled at her wise and wonderful warlock. ‘So … how sure were you that I would tell them to stuff it?’

James wiggled his finger at her. ‘That’s another question, but since you asked … I would’ve bet my new golf clubs on that, and actually I did, along with a few other things. Hey, do I know my girl or what?’

Jean nodded and smiled seductively, ‘You know your girl and in every way.’ She moved in for a kiss and met no resistance.

One kiss led to four before they finally decided it was time to collect their new crumb snatcher and head home. Tonight was soon becoming tomorrow, and they had a lot of t’s to cross and i’s to dot to make Ashley legally theirs in the eyes of the mortal world.

Jean held James’ hand as they watched Ashley sleep. ‘You want to do the honours and I fly us home, or do you want me to make her dreams come true and you do the driving?’

James smiled nervously, ‘Yeah … ummm … you can do the transformation or I can, but as for flying home … how about a nice romantic walk instead?’

Jean’s eyes went wide. ‘A nice romantic walk? It’s well over a mile, you’ll be carrying a forty pound sack of potatoes on your hip, and … there’s not a romantic piece of landscape between here and our house, unless the 7-11 gets you all excited. Why on Earth would you want to walk all the way …?’

Jean stopped in mid sentence as she saw the hang dog look on her love’s face. ‘One of the concessions you had to make?’

James sighed and raised a single finger, ‘One.’

Jean smiled and kissed him. ‘That’s okay. She’s worth being grounded for, and I guess any walk with you is always romantic. … Uh, wasn’t there anyone on the council supporting me?’

‘A few, but they agreed to the restrictions so the resolution would pass. Even with the dispensation, the magic still will not work unless we ask her twice at the proper time while casting the spell, so I guess it is time to wake her up.’

James looked down at the sleeping woman who was but a few words and a finger wiggle away from being a Toys’R’Us kid.

When he knelt down to wake Ashley, Jean laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and stopped him. 'Here, better let me do this. I know how to handle her. If we don’t limit her to a simple yes or no, we’ll be up all night answering her questions.'

James deferred to Jean without hesitation or comment. Jean sat next to Ashley and turned on the dim bedside lamp, then cast the preliminary part of the transformation spell before speaking out loud, “Ashley … Ashley, it’s Jean. Please wake up dear.”

Ashley smiled but did not wake. Jean frowned. ‘Guess I’ll have to cheat.’

“Ashley … pizza’s here.”

Ashley eyes opened immediately and then went wide with a smile to match when she saw Jean looking down at her.

“Jean! Jean!” she cried and her arms immediately went for a hug. “How did you ...”

Jean placed a hand over Ashley’s open mouth. “Ashley … listen and don’t interrupt. If you understand me … just nod.”

Ashley nodded.

Jean smiled, “Good girl. Now I … that is we … as James is here with me. Do you see James?”

Ashley did indeed see James standing behind Jean. The tall figure greeted her with a smile. Ashley nodded once again.

“Good girl. Now where was I? Oh yeah. We don’t have a lot of time here. James likes to watch Letterman and I forgot to set the Tivo, so I’m going to run through this quick so we can get back home.

“So … here goes. You were right. I am a witch and you probably weren’t expecting this one, but James is a warlock, and after a lot of thought and negotiations with management … don’t ask … we now have the ability to grant your wish.

“You can be the little girl you always wanted to be and we’ll be your parents. All I need to hear from you is yes. I can imagine what you’re thinking. ‘This is all a dream, right?’ Well … okay, either it is or it isn’t. If it is … ride it out … make the most of it and then tell me all about it tomorrow at work.

“But … if it is the real thing then you can ask us all the questions you want to over breakfast tomorrow.”

“Now, I need you to answer this. Were you telling me the honest truth?”

“Do you, more than anything, want to be a five year old girl?”

Ashley’s eyes opened so wide that James wondered how she would ever close them again. “Yes, Yes, Yes.”

Jean shook her head and pulled Ashley in for a cuddle. “I said once maybe twice. Geez, she doesn’t listen any better than the others”

“I ask you a second time, knowing that the choice is irreversible, at least until you have grown to be a young woman, ‘Do you, more than anything, want to be a five year old girl?’ ”

“Yes. Does that mean you will be my mommy?”

“Yes dear, I will be your mommy, and James will be your daddy, and you can be one of our flower girls. Now, it is time to go back to sleep until morning.” Jean gave a finger wiggle and Ashley’s eyes closed. She gently eased her friend back down into the bed. Raising her “trigger finger” to her lips she blew invisible smoke from it and smiled. ‘Works better than Sleep-Eze.’

James leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I gotta admit that was good.”

“Years of practice, my love. Now … what say we get this show on the road?”

James gave his own finger wiggles and spoke the words that completed the spell. There was the sound of a thunderclap, and the room seemed to be as light as day for a moment, though their eyes were not dazzled.

Looking down, they saw a small girl lying on the bed, with Muffin head bumping her, seemingly not bothered at all by what had taken place.

“Time to go home, dear.”

Jean looked out the window at the run down houses and broken sidewalks. “Oh well … at least it’s not raining.”

A clap of real thunder came as if on cue, and a light rain pecked at the window. James sighed, “Really?”

Jean shook her head and chuckled. “They heard my remark about fast-assed broom jockeys, didn’t they?”

James didn’t reply. The answer was obvious. Jean searched for something to wrap their new daughter, their new cat and Ashley’s stuffies in for the long wet walk home.

As they left, they looked around at the room that had once held their new daughter, but never fit her. Despite her resolve, Jean’s face was wet even before James opened the door.

As he opened the door, her love told her, “Despite the ‘Wizard of Oz’, we don’t melt in the rain.”

“But both of you will suffer because of me. I’d endure being rained on three times as hard for the two of you to get back dry.”

The rain stopped, the clouds disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, and the moonlight returned.

Hugs and Love; Maggie

Special thanks to Holly H Hart and shalimar for their editing and creative contributions