Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Last Word

           

            The next day, Saturday, dawned even more gloomily than the last. Clouds hung thick over the sky, barely allowing sun to seep through their barriers. The wind picked up speed as the temperature threatened to drop lower than it already was. Already, it was about 40^o Fahrenheit.

            The weatherman announced on Allister’s TV that morning that there was a possible chance of snow sometime during the week. Maybe on the next weekend when temperatures were predicted to drop even lower than they had.

            Allister, still moping about Willow, dragged himself through the day until the late afternoon. It was then he decided to go for a brief bike ride around the neighborhood. His mom eyed him suspiciously. Al flashed his mother a fake bright smile. He hoped it didn’t convey any of his sorrow.

            Gwen waved him out of the house, muttering something about “being too cooped up lately.”

            Once out of the house and on his bike, he zoomed over the sidewalks and over the roads. He soon forgot his worry and planted his attention on the cold high winds whipping against him. His navy blue coat hugged him tight and scared away any possible threat of frostbite. Black gloves gripped the handlebars hard as he steered over a driveway and onto the sidewalk once more.

            As Al breathed out through his mouth, his breaths turned into thick, white clouds that floated away up into the overcast sky. He inhaled the air deeply; the air tasted and smelled cold and pure. It tasted like snow. Maybe there was a chance that it would snow on Monday, and then school could be canceled. Then he wouldn’t have to see Willow again. He just wanted to stay as far away from her as possible. It wasn’t just his disappointment, but also his embarrassment at blurting out to her on the phone, no matter how emotional the situation, that he loved her. She said she loved him back, but she loved someone else even more.

            “Do girls always feel this burdened?” he laughed bitterly to himself under his breath. “’Cause I’m feeling really emotional right now.”

            At this, he laughed again. It was like releasing a heavy weight upon his shoulders. Some of his stress disappeared, relieving him, but some of it still lingered upon his poor heart. He forced himself to focus on bike riding and no his emotional state. But everything strained him so that it tired him mentally.

            The wind blew back his shaggy dark brown hair from his eyes and chilled the sensitive skin of his yellowish-peach skin. It inflamed his face and turned his ear and cheeks pinker than they had been before. Al gritted his teeth and shivered. He wished he had thought to throw a hat on his head over his ears before leaving the house. He shrugged a little.

            “Oh well,” he said. “My bad.”

            The streets were deserted because people were inside, basking in the warmth of their houses. Nobody wanted to be out here in the cold. Nobody but crazy old him.

            The moving of his legs beneath him as they worked the pedals of the bike to move lubricated and warmed his muscles and skin until he no longer felt overly cold. The sweat dripped down his lean covered back and over his spine. He narrowed his eyes and forced his emotions to be shut away. He kept it all in and secluded it, concentrating on the task at hand.

            The exercise sent endorphins and adrenaline through his veins. It spiked him, screaming at him to push himself further and further…further and further…further and further…Until he, breathing hard and sides hurting, came to a stop. He leaned over the edge of his back and gulped the air in frantically. He let out little gasps as the cold pierced him from within. Finally, he raised his eyes to view his surroundings.

            His eyes widened, a small tear falling sadly and slowly down his cheek. Memories rushed through him.

            It was the basketball court and the high metal fence in which Viola and Al had kissed in front of. The kiss that Viola did and didn’t want to come. Where she said she had wanted Willow to be happy, where she had clearly said with her eyes to him for him to be happy. Viola hadn’t wanted tears, but smiles of joy. She had wanted for the two of them to remain friends no matter what.

            Allister frowned. He leaned his bike against the fence and sat on the hard, cold ground. The dead grass rustled underneath him.

            “So much for that,” Al said to the empty world around him. “Viola was wrong. Willow and I aren’t friends anymore, no matter what Willow said. She and I…it’s hopeless. Hopeless to be angry, hopeless to be disappointed…hopeless to even hope.”

            Bitterness flamed up in him. He struck the fence in frustration. He pulled away his hand and shook it. His nerves had shot. He looked at his hand as the pain slowly faded into nothing. It reminded him that he was human. It was normal to feel pain.

            “Is it normal to feel this…this bitter?” Al asked himself.

            More memories popped up in his mind. Al in the janitor’s closet with Willow, about to kiss her, Al in the Whitmore’s backyard pavilion, so close to Willow then, too. But now…Allister couldn’t be close to her any longer. They weren’t even friends. He knew if they tried to be friends, their conversations would be too awkward.

            He closed his eyes, his heart fighting the truth with every pulse. Deep down, knew it was over even before it had begun.

 

_____

 

            “Sir?” Fleming asked, poking his head into the door of Severin’s study. “Our meeting?”

            Without glancing up, Severin waved Markus in.

            Markus tentatively stepped inside, closing the door carefully behind him. He was still very frightened of what Severin would do to him. Severin could tell this by the nervous shaking in the young man’s hands.

            Severin finished up something and filed it away into one of the cabinets behind him. He then turned around and locked eyes with Fleming. Fleming immediately straightened up under Severin’s piercing gaze. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with the pounding of his heartbeat. Severin licked his lips and smiled politely, a bit of menace revealing itself to the young man. Markus nearly jumped from fright.

            “Come now, Markus,” Severin murmured softly. “Surely you aren’t afraid of me, now are you?”

            Markus exhaled a few shaky breaths, nearly hyperventilating. Severin grinned widely at this, chuckling at the poor boy’s fear.

            “You really are afraid, Markus,” he whispered, the truth more true when he said it out in the open. “That’s good. Be afraid all you want. Fear makes you more…reliable. More adept to obey me.”

            “Y-y…yes, sir.”

            Severin nodded.

            “S-sir? Have you set a date?”

            “Yes,” Severin said. He hissed on the “s”. “I have.”

            “You have considered the day of your daughter’s outing sufficient enough?”

            “Nearly. I’ll have to keep watching Willow, though. Knowing her, she may yet do something…drastic.”

            “Sir?”

            “You’ll come to know as you observe my daughter that she’s very willful. Something she inherits proudly from me. Though, that determination is also her downfall. She thinks that with her anger and physical prowess that she can take down anyone. Including me.”

            Fleming was silent, so Severin continued.

            “And I’ll also have you know that because of her youth, she’s often ignorant of her actions until the very end. That means, she won’t sort out the depth of her mistakes until the consequences hit her.”

            Markus nodded. He gulped and let out a soft sigh that sounded like the coo of a dove. Almost. Severin made a face at this innocent sound.  

“The date, sir?”

            “We will see, Fleming. Go.”

            With this single word, Fleming jumped up from his chair and swiftly raced from the study in fear. Severin was left steaming in his own thoughts.

            “There’s no question to what Willow might do if I reveal myself,” Severin said sternly into the silence. “Judging her strength, and if she dares to fight me, she might just win. I think a fight might be a tad more satisfying than killing her in the dead quiet. That way she could give up fairly and lose equally. After all, I never was a cheater. I always play fair when it comes to games.”

           

_____

 

            The afternoon was cold, made even more so by the high winds that whipped over Crescent City and Wayview, the town adjoined to the city. The sky grew a little darker as the hours wore on. The entire city, especially kids, buzzed about the possibility of snow. Maybe even that very day.

            Pierce listened to a pair of teenage girls chattering near him about school being canceled.

            “Wouldn’t that be so cool?”

            “Yeah. We never have enough time to just chill anymore. It’s all work lately. Have you noticed?”

            “Yeah. It sucks.”

            “Tell me about it.”

            Their voices faded away into the buzz of the mall’s crowds. The Crescent City mall was decorated with mistletoe, green and red banners hanging overhead and pictures of Santa Claus was in practically every store window. Pierce had to suppress a laugh.

            “It’s funny how they manage to put all of this up so fast,” Pierce murmured, eyeing the gigantic Christmas tree in the center of the mall that reached up to the mall’s ceiling.

            He smiled in wonderment and awe, shaking his head. Christmas carols pounded through the mall speakers. Everyone seemed to hum with life. Pierce had to admit that he, too, was catching on to the infectious mood. He felt his heart lighten more than ever when he thought of Willow’s smiling face.

            Life and love. Two things he cherished the most.

            Pierce wandered around, wondering where he should go. Finally, he chose a simply fitness store. He looked around at the weights. He walked to the back of the store and glanced around at the merchandise. A pair of long black leather fitness gloves that stopped right in the middle of the forearm away from the elbow caught his attention. He widened his eyes. That was just the thing Willow would love.

            On the package, the gloves had no fingers. He read the package. It said that they were strong and durable, a new kind of weightlifting glove.

            Pierce decided to buy it right then, getting out his money.

            He walked from the store. He was happy in the choice he had made for Willow’s gift.

 

            Pierce walked home in peaceful mood. The weather seemed to ease any extra stress from him. All he thought about was Willow. He just wanted to be by her side once more, to hold her, to love her.

            Pierce hoped that Willow knew she was a good person. She doubted herself, always placing the blame upon herself. Especially the death of her own mother and her best friend. It must have been hard for her to cope and to heal. Maybe it didn’t, after so many weeks, hurt for her. She appeared to be much happier, actually smiling. A month ago, it would have been even rare to see her even as much as smirk. She had made lots of progress, Pierce thought. Lots of progress.

            He couldn’t imagine what her pain must have been like. He had never lost his mother or father or even a friend. He had a perfectly average childhood. Nothing had ever really happened to him. Not until Willow came along. That’s when everything began to happen. All because of her. But he was glad she was here because he loved her. Pierce wanted her by his side.

 

            Later that evening, Pierce went over to the Academy. He had already wrapped up Willow’s present. But tonight toughness sparked around him. He felt strong and he wanted to punch something just to get some exercise.

            Pierce, in front of the Academy building, pulled his key to the door from his pocket. He was staff; it was mandatory for him to have a key. He thrust they key deep into the lock and turned it. The lock clicked. Pierce untwisted the key and pushed open the door wide. He stuffed his key back into his pocket.

            The entire place was dark. Pierce wandered around until he had flipped on the main switch on the wall. Light flooded the room, washing away the shadows from the place. The light revealed weights in one corner, another a boxing ring, and balance beams and a padded foam area for the martial arts. The whitewashed walls glowed beautifully, having been painted recently. The floor was hard tiled, but not the kind that created burns on the skin if friction occurred. The whole place smelled like sweat and unused equipment.

            Pierce wrinkled his nose, slowly growing accustomed to the smell. It wasn’t bad once you got used to it. Once you did you could smell absolutely nothing at all. It really was the ideal place to train for all ages.

            He smiled faintly, excited to be punching something. He was half-frozen from walking all the way from home. Sure, he had a car, but he was near enough to the Academy to walk.

             His breaths came short with enthusiasm and the sweet feeling of adrenaline rushing through him drowned out any other sound. He closed his eyes and smirked, his toughness coming over him. He was ready to kick some butt.

            Pierce stripped off his coat and revealed a white tank top. He curled and uncurled his knuckles and licked his lips happily. He approached the punching bag that hung from the ceiling on a chain.

            “NAH!” he grunted as he punched the bag.

            Then he gave a series of sidekicks and front kicks. He did some hooks and uppercuts to the bag. Ten minutes later, sweat rolled down his body. He licked his lips again, tasting their sweet saltiness. His body was fired up and flexible. If only he had someone to fight…

            “How come you’re here?” asked a voice from the double doors.

            He turned to see Willow smirking at him, arms folded across her chest. She looked like her typical self. At least the unshaken part of her anyway. Her long black hair was tied back into a messy ponytail as if she hadn’t had time to brush it. Her pale skin glowed in the fluorescent lighting. She was a dark angel gracing his presence.

            “I’d have to ask you the same question, Willow,” he replied.

            Willow smiled brightly at him, walking from the doorway over to him. She stopped right in front of him and placed her hands on her hips.

            “I was bored. I didn’t have anything else to do. Thankfully my foster parents allowed me out.”

            “Really? Surprising.”

            “I think they feel bad about the way they’ve treated me,” Willow guessed. She leaned in playfully to Pierce’s face. He could taste her sweet breath. She was so close that she could kiss him if she wanted to. He wanted to do just that. “I was hoping on seeing you around here.”

            Pierce leaned in back to her face, but she shocked him by pulling away adruptly. Uncertainty and worry flashed through her eyes for just a second. They were gone as quickly as they had appeared. Confusion needled his side.

            “Something wrong?” he asked.

            “No…why?”

            “Just…uh…nothing. Wanna spar?”

            Her infamous smirk grew even wider.

            “I was hoping you’d say that, Pierce.”

            “Bring it, little lady.”

            She touched his cheek gently. His heart thumped loudly.

            “You know it I will.”

            They walked to the mats. Energy buzzed through Pierce’s entire body. Willow jumped from foot to foot, doing a boxer shuffle to pump herself up. They faced each other and bowed. Their hands were placed flat together, palm to palm, as if praying. Then they straightened themselves back up. They tucked their elbows in at their sides, fists raised. Willow’s face was set in a grim expression, as it always was when she was concentrating on something.

            It was Willow who moved first, kicking at Pierce. He was knocked over, surprised by Willow’s sudden move. It got him right in the eye, the kick accurately thrown at the right height. He hopped right back up onto his feet and lunged a hook punch in Willow’s direction. It caught the side of her head, which sent her flying backwards. Sympathy spiked inside of Pierce. He didn’t want to hurt her too bad.

            That changed when Willow punched him right in the stomach. Pierce keeled over, all the wind gone from his lungs. Willow, breathing hard, kicked Pierce to the ground. She pinned him flat on the ground with his foot. She leaned down in front of him, panting hard. She hadn’t passed out like she usually did; Pierce assumed that Willow was getting stronger.

            Their faces were so close to each other. Willow’s lips played into a triumphant smirk. Loose tendrils of her lovely hair brushed against Pierce’s face, tickling his skin. Her eyes glowed with mischief.

            “Well, look who’s lost again!” she teased.

            And then the impulse grew so strong that Pierce grabbed Willow’s face and attempted to plant his lips right on her own. Willow appeared shock at this, turning her head suddenly. He had meant to kiss her on the lips, but she had turned her head. So he had ended up kissing the side of her mouth. Not exactly what he had in mind.

            Willow raised her head with her eyes half-closed. She looked at him from beneath her long lashes. She touched her hand to the side of her mouth. Her mouth moved as if forming words to be intended for herself.

            “Willow…I-I…I’m sorry…I-I didn’t know…whether…”

            “No,” she murmured softly. She shook her head. “It’s not you. I may not…be ready for…that just yet.”

            She looked away, flushing a deep red in the face. She smiled a little to herself.

            “You do like me.”

            “I do, Willow. I do.”

            Willow rose from atop Pierce. Pierce placed a hand to his eye and suddenly remembered what he had wanted to tell Willow. Might as well tell her now that she was here.

            “Willow, your father is planning something. I know it. He wants to kill you.”

            Her posture relaxed. She turned to face him with a sad smile.

            “I’ve known. But thanks, Pierce. It means a lot to me that you care. I like you so much. You don’t know how much.”

            He sensed the truth and affection within the tone of her voice. Hope rose in his chest.

            “I’m sorry.”

            She hugged him. He wrapped her in his sweaty arms.

            “Don’t be,” Willow said.

            “I’ll try not to be, Will.”

            She pulled away, smirking at him.

            “You’re so soft, you know that? You act like such the tough guy, yet you’re such a marshmallow inside!”

            He smirked right back at her. He touched her cheek.

            “Really? I never knew. Thanks for telling me.”

            “Gladly.”

 

_____

 

            Pierce walked alongside Willow. Willow had her head turned away from him, embarrassed. Pierce blamed himself when it was really Willow’s fault for turning away so suddenly. It wasn’t that she was ready…She was plenty ready to kiss him. It was just the topic of her venomous kiss.

            If the venom in her lips seeped out when she (possibly) kissed Pierce and killed him… She couldn’t bear the thought. She didn’t want more people to dieShe didn’t want to lose Pierce. She loved him too much for her heart to bear the heavy burden that she had killed him.

            The cold flushed her cheeks. Willow tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear and dared a glance at Pierce. He had his head turned in the opposite direction.

            He definitely blames himself, Willow thought sadly. Even when it’s not his fault.

            The adrenaline of the fight coursed through her blood like a drug, but a good drug. Normally she loved the high she got after a good fight. Except for right now. She couldn’t feel any high, even if it was there. She was regretful for what happened back there.

            Before Pierce had attempted to kiss her, and failed, something sparked in her. Pierce had stared down deeply into Willow’s eyes. His eyes had penetrated her defenses. Somehow she sensed that he was about to kiss her. It still left her shocked. But there had been something in his eyes. Something like desire. She had felt it too. It was strong. She wanted him, and he wanted her. She would have let the kiss go on.

            It really did suck to be a genetic freak.

            Willow snatched up Pierce’s hand in her own and stopped. She tugged on it, drawing him to her and hugging him.

            “It’s not your fault, Pierce. Okay? It was mine. I was the one who was hesitant…The one who…wasn’t ready.”

            Pierce looked down at with soft eyes. He hugged her back tightly. She felt his love for her surge through her entire body. Suddenly she wasn’t so cold anymore. She buried her face in his shoulder. He gently kissed her hair and stroked it. It felt comforting.

            “I’m not blaming myself,” he said quietly.

            Willow drew back, her arms around his neck, and gazed at him expectantly. She smirked.

            “Stop lying to me and tell the truth. You were blaming yourself, weren’t you?”

            He rolled his eyes at her, but he smiled in amusement.

            “Kinda…” He shrugged.

            Pierce smirked down at her in that tough guy way of his.

            “It’s okay that we didn’t…you know…kiss…”

            Willow let her eyelids drop a fraction so that she looked up at him from underneath her dark, long lashes.

            “Well, that’s one more thing we just have to do, now isn’t it?” she asked in a playful tone.

            “I guess so,” he teased right back.

            Willow laughed and the two resumed walking side-by-side. This time Pierce didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around Willow’s waist and draw her close to him. Willow leaned her head on Pierce’s shoulder peacefully.

            She still worried about the kissing thing and her revenge on her father. But right now, she worried about nothing. She simply lived in the moment.

 

_____

 

            Sunday was just as dark as Saturday. The skies were as clouded just as before, filled with darker clouds, though. The snowstorm was approaching. The temperatures dropped even lower, resulting in 36^o Fahrenheit. Frost coated the ground and windows that morning as Pierce arose from bed, throwing on a pair of clean jeans and a heavy sweatshirt.

            He stepped into the kitchen of his small house, his eyes still partly heavy from sleep. The first thought that popped into his head was Willow. He smiled faintly at how she had comforted him last night and smirked at him. She always knew when something was up with him, even back when they had simply had been friends sparring at the Academy. Now they were something more.

            But Pierce stilled worried for Willow’s safety more than his own. He didn’t want to see her injured, or worse…

            Pierce shuddered horribly at the thought. He didn’t want to think about that. About Willow being gone from the earth altogether. He couldn’t not imagine her smiling face being gone forever, not holding her. It was cruel. Too cruel for words.

            Pierce rummaged through the contents of the fridge in the kitchen and simply decided on toast and cereal. He popped two slices of bread into the toaster and got out some Wheaties frosted cereal. He poured that into a glass bowl with a spoon in it and poured some milk onto the dry wheat cereal, lots of milk, and allowed it to soak up the moisture and become somewhat soggy.

            The toaster dinged, and Pierce removed the hot toast quickly and flung it onto a plate. He removed the creamy peanut butter from one of the cabinets near the fridge and grabbed a knife. He spread a light layer of peanut butter on both pieces of toast and watched it melt into the freshly toasted bread right before his eyes. He grabbed the cold bowl of cereal and the plate of toast and sat on the couch to watch TV.

            Pierce grabbed the remote from the coffee table in front of the couch and flipped the TV on to the morning news. There were news stories telling of murder, some rape, and other assaults. Pierce realized then how high the crime rate in Crescent City was. The city needed her, he decided. Without her, countless lives would have been lost and marred. It was all because of what Willow chose to do. Pride filled his chest and Pierce smiled.

            Another story came up. This one was even more interesting than all the others.

            “Days ago, a government facility in the lower district of Crescent City was breached. Authorities claim that only one thing was stolen: a valuable piece of software containing confidential information. Besides the theft, four men were killed in the thief’s rampage. One witness, interviewed yesterday, says the thief was a young woman with long white hair and abilities and features similar to those of the Black Widow.

            “While authorities wonder whether or not the Black Widow is safe, Crescent City ponders if the Black Widow has turned into a criminal. Though the Black Widow is believed to be on the law’s side, has she turned herself? Tune in later to hear journalist Terry Tarrant’s, writer of the ‘Get Real’ column in the Crescent City Chronicle, opinion on the matter.”

            Pierce widened his eyes.

            “What is this?” he asked. “Willow’s the good guy! And someone…I don’t know…is framing her or something. Willow is not a thief! That I know.”

            He stood from his seat and stamped through the kitchen and to the sink. He slammed his bowl and plate down into the sink angrily. He kept his anger in. He gripped the sides of the counter and glared out the window at the backyard.

            “She didn’t do anything. I know Willow. She wouldn’t steal or kill innocent people. She just wouldn’t.”

            He slammed his eyes shut tight. A tear leaked out and fell into the sink below. It wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t. But what if he was wrong and Willow really was disguising herself and doing those horrible things.

            “It’s not her,” he said. He wasn’t sure he believed his own words.

 

            That afternoon, after debating with himself constantly, Pierce decided to give Willow a call.

            The phone rang for a few seconds before someone eventually picked up.

            “Who’s this?” asked Willow’s voice.

            “Willow.”

            “Pierce? Hi. How’s it going?”

            “Willow I have to ask you something…,” Pierce said gravely.

            Willow seemed to detect this; a hint of worry had entered her voice.

            “What is it?” she asked slowly.

            “There was something on TV this morning about this girl who stole something and killed four men. They said this girl looked like you, except she had white hair.”

            “Oh,” she droned flatly. “That.” Willow sighed. “Pierce, it’s not me. I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

            “I know, and I believe you. But…I don’t think the rest of the city might agree. There are some that are really against what you do out there. Others support it. I suggest that you not go playing Black Widow anytime soon, okay?”

            “Okay. I won’t,” Willow answered. There was a hint of a smile in her voice. “Thank you.”

            “I just worry about you, you know.”

            “I can take care of myself, mister. It’s yourself you should be worried about.” Her tone sounded grim. “Who knows what my father could do to you to get to me.”

            “As long as I’m around, he’s not gonna do anything to either of us.”

            Willow chuckled softly.

            “You’re so sweet to be worrying about me like this.”

            “I care for you. We both know that.”

            “I know,” Willow murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the Academy, okay?”

            “You know it. See you, Will.”

            Pierce hung up, more reassured.

 

_____

 

            How long will this be going on? Willow asked herself as she hung up the kitchen phone.

            That news story had been on twice already. Willow didn’t like it. She was glad that she was going to take a break from being the Black Widow for a bit. It gave her some major chill time. And more time to spend with Pierce. It was sweet the way he was worrying about her safety. The last thing Willow needed was to get arrested for something she didn’t even do. Talk about unfair.

            Willow went up to her room and flipped on the TV in there. She lay on her bed, trying to entertain herself by watching the morning news since there was nothing else of interest. The anchorman and woman simply droned on about the weather, murders, and fires…the usual junk that went on in a city. The politics were even worse (yawn worthy, Willow thought).

            She allowed her mind to wander from the TV screen. She thought of Pierce. It wasn’t her he should be worrying about. It was his own safety. But she knew that Willow couldn’t completely convince Pierce to stop worrying about her wellbeing. It was nice to be worried about and to have another shoulder to lean on for once. It was so sweet how concerned Pierce was for her. Her heart warmed at the thought.

            She remembered back when she had been cold and hard on the exterior, but soft and weak within. Now she was strong inside and out. Love had made her that way, and as long as she loved Pierce and he loved her back, that strength would grow stronger. Bored, Willow switched off the TV in her room and logged onto the Internet on her computer. She surfed around, but disconnected. She wanted to do something instead of just sitting around.

            Hopping off of her computer chair, she ran down the stairs and grabbed her coat. Willow quickly asked Agatha for permission to go out. Agatha nodded with a bright smile. Willow smiled back and grabbed her hat and scarf, wrapping the scarf around her neck. She pulled her dark green hat down low over her ears, which were bound to get frozen easily. She slipped on her black gloves over her fingers. She opened the front door and waved to Aggie. She journeyed out into the city.

 

            The feeling of joy buzzed in Willow’s veins from the moment she stepped foot into the city. The streets were more crowded than ever. People rushed from store to store buying gifts for their loved ones for Christmas. Crescent City’s homeless beggars appeared more frequently now than any other time of the year. She didn’t pay them any mind, but wanted to help them in some way, though she knew she couldn’t.         

Willow actually found herself smiling as she stuffed her half-frozen hands into the pockets of her heavy coat. She shuddered from the dead cold of winter. How did it get to be so cold all of a sudden? A few weeks ago it was warmer, and now it was nearly below thirty degrees Fahrenheit. Her breath came out as thick white clouds of vapor that rose high into the air and disappeared into nothingness.

            Willow opened the door nearest to her and stepped inside. Warmth washed over her as bells attached to the door jangled merrily, announcing her presence in the bustling store. The store was coated thick with Christmas ornaments and cheery decorations. It made Willow’s grin become wider. It reminded her of when she and her mother used to decorate their Christmas tree every year. She remembered the anticipation and the excitement of Christmas morning that had throbbed through her entire system as a child. It was the one thing, out of everything, Willow and Lily had always done together in pure happiness and not of the thought of wasting yet more money.

            Willow stepped off to the side so she wouldn’t block the entrance. The store was painted a lemon yellow and the linoleum floor harbored sunny yellow and snow white tiles. It was all new and fresh, energy pulsing through its atmosphere. In one corner there was a toy aisle, another hardware, and in a few others were other necessities. The corner Willow stood in the card section of the store.

            An ornament caught her eyes and she turned her head to it. It was a tiny little cherub with feathery wings and a harp in one hand. The cherub had gold-yellow hair and fair skin. Its cheeks were sweetly flushed with the grace of a smile. Her lips attained a faint smile as she fingered the cherub’s soft wings. She stroked its head with one gentle finger. It was so sweet. And then a thought came to her. Willow remembered that she had forgotten to take her wallet from her coat before. Her wallet had about forty bucks in it, something she had been saving to buy new equipment for her Black Widow uniform. But why not spend it on a twenty-dollar ornament for Agatha?

            “She’d love it!” Willow chirped to herself. She smiled brightly at the prospect.

            Willow took the ornament to the counter to pay for it, handing over a twenty-dollar bill and being given change in return. The woman at the counter gently wrapped the porcelain cherub in tissue paper and placed it carefully into a bag. She smiled amiably at Willow.

            “Have a Merry Christmas, young lady,” she said.

            “You, too, ma’am,” Willow said with a smile back.

            She exited the store and cautiously handled the gift in her hands so that it wouldn’t break. Her thoughts strayed to the other twenty-dollar bill in her wallet. What if she bought a gift for Pierce?

            She grinned.

            “Great idea,” she said to herself. “I will.”

            What did he like? She never really bothered to ask him all the time that they had been friends. Books? Hardware? Sports? Cars? Software? Videogames? Actually, now that Willow thought about it, it probably wouldn’t be that hard to shop for Pierce. After all, he was a guy, and guys were easy to please. 

Willow decided on going to one of the larger department stores in Crescent City. One that was nice, yet affordable on her limited budget. It was a local business called Chantalle, and as fancy as it sounded, it really wasn’t. It had built up popularity in Crescent City. And the reason Willow knew about it? It was because it was mentioned plenty of times on TV and in the newspapers. She had also heard about it by word of mouth and decided for herself that it was a pretty decent place to shop.

            To Chantalle she went.

            Willow had to admit that she was impressed by the store. It was fancy but overly fancy. Just enough to catch the eye of a frequent passerby. She knew why it was popular, too. As she walked in the door, the employees greeted her warmly as if she were an old friend come to visit.

            Willow also noticed that the latest hits were playing from the speakers on the ceilings and in the corners. Currently playing was, if Willow was correct, the Pussycat Dolls’ Beep. They sounded great. Willow drank in her surroundings; from the clean tiled floor to the pure white walls, it was an ideal business. She liked it immediately. She wandered around Chantalle until she found the section she wanted.

            She entered the sports section hesitantly, not really sure she would find what she wanted to get Pierce. Then she saw it. Pair of fingerless gloves perfect for sparring sessions at the Academy. She jumped on them, snatching them up in her hand to look at the price. Only seventeen bucks. Not bad for a pair of good fighting gloves. Willow smirked. Pierce would love his gift.

            Willow walked to the checkout and paid for the present. Curious, Willow decided to roam around Chantalle just to look and see what they had. Who knew? Maybe she would find something that she liked.

            Rounding a corner, her purchases all in one bag, Willow saw the person she least wanted to see. She ducked back, but not before he called out to her.

            “Willow! Hey…”         

Willow turned to look Allister unwillingly in the eye.

 

_____

 

            “Sir? Have you thought about the date yet?” asked Markus shakily.

            Severin glanced up at him.

            “Yes.”

            “What should I tell my men?”

            “You’re not going to tell them anything…yet,” Severin answered. “This has to be kept secret from anyone else besides us. But you may allow a few of your trusted men in on this. No more than them.”

            Fleming nodded obediently. He was determined to keep Severin happy so that he himself wouldn’t get killed. Coward he was.

            “I will, sir. No more than the trusted. I understand.”

            “You want to know something, Markus?”

            “Sir?”

            “It’s about the child that were stolen from me before. If your men ever encounter them, know that they’ll be stronger. Stronger than you’ll ever determine despite their youth. They’re clever and wily and able to outwit us. And apparently Dr. Chung raised them until they could fend for themselves. They barely remember him, I suspect, but I believe that they go to him.      

“Do you understand this?”

            “Yes, sir, I do,” Fleming answered as sincerely as he could.

            Severin nodded, pleased with the young man’s understanding.

            “You make it very clear, sir.”

            “Good. Very good. You may go.”

            And Fleming left just as he said it.

 

_____

 

            The look on her face was enough for Allister to feel uncomfortable.

            “Oh,” Willow said. The single sound was disappointed. “Hi.”

            “How are you?”

            Willow shrugged.

            “Fine, I guess,” she mumbled.

            Allister bobbed his head in agreement.

            “That’s good. I’m good.”

            He gave himself a mental kick for saying that. Why couldn’t he say anything interesting? Why did he have to ruin everything?

            “So…” Willow darted her eyes around, looking for an escape. She saw none. “…how come you’re here?”

            “Christmas shopping with my mom.”

            “Okay. That’s cool.”

            “Look…Willow,” he started. “I’m sorry.”

            Willow seemed confused.

            “What’s there to be sorry for? You didn’t do anything.”

            “I yanked us apart as friends. That’s what I did. And now…you apparently hate me.”

            She frowned at him in displeasure.

            “God, Allister! I don’t hate you!”

            “Then how come you’re acting…I don’t know…annoyed at me? Tell me that!”

            “Because…,” she spluttered. “Because you don’t just go around telling people that you love them!”

            The anger was apparent on her face. Al felt his stomach drop. Willow realized what she had done.

            “Al…I didn’t mean it…Really, I didn’t!”

            “No.”

            “What?”

            “No. I get it. We’re not friends.”

            “Allister�"”

            “I get it, okay?” he snapped angrily. “I get that you don’t want me around anymore because of this mysterious boyfriend of yours.”

            “Al, it’s not�"”

            “And you’re going to tell me it’s alright? That we’re still friends? Big deal, Willow!”

            Tears were flowing from Willow’s eyes. Her lips were drawn down into a frown. She touched his arm, but Allister yanked it out of her grasp.

            “Leave me alone,” he growled. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

            “Allister…please,” Willow whispered. Her voice cracked on the last word.

            Allister turned around and glared at Willow. This time Al didn’t succumb to her beauty. Bitterness spiked through him. He breezed past her without even so much as a glance. He left poor Willow in tears, her face in her hands.

            And he didn’t feel guilty at all.