I don't own these characters, in fact I can barely afford to feed my Mars Bar habit
Call Waiting 8
Willow picked up her books, looking around in panic.
"You've got everything," Tara told her patiently. "There are pens in your bag and you've got all the recommended textbooks."
Willow sighed. "Thanks, sweetie." She kissed Tara lovingly, and headed out the door.
Tara smiled. She turned to the fridge. Time for lunch.
A cloud of smoke appeared in front of her. She frowned, leaning back against the door. When a tall, brawny man in an ornate turban, loincloth, and jerkin appeared, she folded her arms.
The man bowed elaborately. "Most Magnificent One, O Great and Powerful Witch," he began.
Tara interrupted gently. "You don't need to bother with all that. Have you come about the shortage?"
The man nodded. "*She* was set free recently, and has wed. I bring you her old costume as a token of respect."
Tara gestured towards the closet. "In there?"
"Are you interested, O Wondr- Tara?"
"Possibly," Tara grinned. "My great-grandmother was one of yours. I'd love to see the outfit."
She opened the door, stepping inside. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, then giggled. "All right, I'm coming out of the closet now – is that a problem?"
"Of course not," the man said, puzzled.
Tara held a pink confection against herself. There was a jewelled headdress with scarf to go under the chin, a short, dark jerkin, a pink bikini top, and long, billowy, practically transparent pants.
The man gave her the honorific title. "So what do you think, Jeannie?"
