FIC: Reality Will Never Be The Same & Payback's a Witch Named Willow - Willow/NCIS, tth100
More bits for tth100
Prompt Table -> HERE
Order of Ficlets -> HERE
Title: Reality Will Never Be The Same
Author: lyl_devil
Rating: G
tth100: Willow/NCIS
Prompt - 100-Dry
Words - 598
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Summary:She wished he would just say something, anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Magic.” he said in a flat tone of voice, and Willow silently cursed him for being so in-control, even now. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, whether it was 'placate the crazy person until I can call the psych ward for vacancies' or 'please let one of us be hallucinating, and by *us* I mean you'. Then again, for all she knew, it was the 'this is what smoking that funny weed does to perfectly intelligent young people' tone of voice.
She didn't delude herself into believing it was the 'I know all about the demon nightlife, it just surprises me that you do, too' tone.
“Uh-huh.” Willow answered, and felt her heart rate speed up even more. Her mouth was dry, her legs were shaking and her palms were getting sweatier and clammier by the minute.
She wished he would just say something, anything. This silent, staring thing he was doing was unnerving - like she was one of his suspects, or something, and he was trying to stare her into admitting the truth.
“Magic is real.” he said again, for the fifth time. If this were any other conversation on any other night, Willow would be teasing him about senility and old age, but this wasn't any other night.
“Yep.” Willow replied, still not able to focus on a single point in the entire room. Her gaze kept shifting everywhere, coming to rest on her uncle every few seconds, hoping to finally see something other than that blank look on his face.
“Where you sniffing the cooking spray earlier?”
Willow figured the 'extremely offendedannoyedshocked' gasp she made was enough of an answer to that.
“You're seriously trying to tell me that all that hocus-pocus-mumbo-jumbo is true? Cauldrons and broomsticks and black cats?”
“Not...entirely.” she hedged, wincing. Now was not the time to expound on her issues regarding witching stereotypes.
A raised eyebrow was her only response.
“Well, I've never owned a broomstick, let alone flown on one. In fact, I'm not sure you even could....though...maybe with a levitation spell to get you off the ground, and then you'd need some sort of small wind spell to help you steer, but why anyone would want to try on an actual broom-” Great. This was a fantastic time for her babbling habit to kick in. “And I don't have any cats, black or otherwise.” Not that she wouldn't like one, but in this house, with her uncle? - yeah, no. Alpha issues aside, she didn't even know if he liked cats. Or pets. Or animals, in general. “And the cauldrons only get used for the really big spells - ones that require heavy duty potions. Usually short phrases or chants work for the smaller stuff.”
And that was officially too much information in a thirty second period.
“Chants.” And they were back to the blank disbelieving/insane niece look again.
This called for a demonstration. Mumbling a few words under her breath and a slight flick of the wrist, she floated a book left on the hallway table into the living room, letting it hand in mid-air next to her Uncle Jethro.
Willow held her breath as he looked at the floating book that was breaking several laws of physics, and every law of gravity, hoping that it was the beginning of acceptance she saw on his face.
Then his body sort of slumped in place, as if under the weight of this new revelation/dimension in his world, and said...
“Huh.”
END
Title: Payback's a Witch Named Willow
Author: lyl_devil
Rating: G
tth100: Willow/NCIS
Prompt: 069-Spell
Words: 545
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Summary:Magic was way cooler.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“...And the pointy hats?”
“Not even at Hallowe'en.” Willow confirmed, glad to be back on safer ground - sort of.
They'd spent the last few hours talking about the technical aspects of magic and spellcasting, and how it fit into the realm of science. She'd tried her best to answer his questions, giving them the thought and consideration they deserved, because he was making a real effort to understand. He was a man who worked on facts and logic, and was trying to fit this new revelation into his world view.
Actually, she'd enjoyed it. She'd never really thought about the science behind the spells she did. Everything was usually all laid out for her. Say these words in this order, with this hand gesture and this was the result. Put these ingredients together, say these words and place the finished product here, and this is what will happen - or not happen. But actually trying to understand why certain ingredients worked this way together, but only with the right words, was beyond her.
It was invigorating to challenge herself in this way. This was something she'd have to get back to, because it certainly warranted further study.
But now they were back to stereotypes and myths. They'd thankfully glossed over the whole 'burned at the stake' thing, because she still hadn't told him about vampires, demons and the occasional apocalypse.
She figured she'd break that to him more slowly, a bit at a time.
Later. Much, much later.
“This whole magic thing is still a little hinky to me.” he admitted after a short silence. “Floating a book can be explained if you believe in stuff like telekinesis.”
Willow never would have picked him for the science fiction type.
“Are you sure it's not just some funky mind power?” he asked her. And the fact that he sounded like he really wanted her to say that, threw her more than anything all evening.
“Fine. I'll prove it!” Willow finally said, turning her own glare on him for even suggesting that her magic was some lame mutant power. Magic was way cooler.
Willow quickly ran to the den, grabbing some paper and a pen. Sitting down next to her uncle, she quickly wrote a - slightly - snarky message, signing her name with a big smiley face and an obnoxious 'Happy Hallowe'en'.
Folding the paper, she placed it on the coffee table, and cast a quick glance at her uncle.
He still had a slightly dubious look on his face, which just pushed her ire further.
Well, fine! Willow thought, irritated and slightly vengeful. She'd had so many people doubting her ability back in Sunnydale, and it hurt that her uncle was the same. Willow tried to tell herself that it was only natural, especially since the entire 'magic' thing was so new for him, but it didn't help.
She'd show him 'telekinesis'!
Several chanted sentences and hand-waving gestures later, the note was gone, Willow felt mildly better, and her uncle looked slightly shell shocked at the light show.
“It'll be on your desk in the morning.” she told him.
Willow tried not to smile too broadly as she left the room.
The kitchen wouldn't clean itself - well, maybe.
END
And this leads us into Unexpected Mystery, which was free-floating in the timeline...see how it all ties together??
Prompt Table -> HERE
Order of Ficlets -> HERE
Title: Reality Will Never Be The Same
Author: lyl_devil
Rating: G
tth100: Willow/NCIS
Prompt - 100-Dry
Words - 598
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Summary:She wished he would just say something, anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Magic.” he said in a flat tone of voice, and Willow silently cursed him for being so in-control, even now. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, whether it was 'placate the crazy person until I can call the psych ward for vacancies' or 'please let one of us be hallucinating, and by *us* I mean you'. Then again, for all she knew, it was the 'this is what smoking that funny weed does to perfectly intelligent young people' tone of voice.
She didn't delude herself into believing it was the 'I know all about the demon nightlife, it just surprises me that you do, too' tone.
“Uh-huh.” Willow answered, and felt her heart rate speed up even more. Her mouth was dry, her legs were shaking and her palms were getting sweatier and clammier by the minute.
She wished he would just say something, anything. This silent, staring thing he was doing was unnerving - like she was one of his suspects, or something, and he was trying to stare her into admitting the truth.
“Magic is real.” he said again, for the fifth time. If this were any other conversation on any other night, Willow would be teasing him about senility and old age, but this wasn't any other night.
“Yep.” Willow replied, still not able to focus on a single point in the entire room. Her gaze kept shifting everywhere, coming to rest on her uncle every few seconds, hoping to finally see something other than that blank look on his face.
“Where you sniffing the cooking spray earlier?”
Willow figured the 'extremely offendedannoyedshocked' gasp she made was enough of an answer to that.
“You're seriously trying to tell me that all that hocus-pocus-mumbo-jumbo is true? Cauldrons and broomsticks and black cats?”
“Not...entirely.” she hedged, wincing. Now was not the time to expound on her issues regarding witching stereotypes.
A raised eyebrow was her only response.
“Well, I've never owned a broomstick, let alone flown on one. In fact, I'm not sure you even could....though...maybe with a levitation spell to get you off the ground, and then you'd need some sort of small wind spell to help you steer, but why anyone would want to try on an actual broom-” Great. This was a fantastic time for her babbling habit to kick in. “And I don't have any cats, black or otherwise.” Not that she wouldn't like one, but in this house, with her uncle? - yeah, no. Alpha issues aside, she didn't even know if he liked cats. Or pets. Or animals, in general. “And the cauldrons only get used for the really big spells - ones that require heavy duty potions. Usually short phrases or chants work for the smaller stuff.”
And that was officially too much information in a thirty second period.
“Chants.” And they were back to the blank disbelieving/insane niece look again.
This called for a demonstration. Mumbling a few words under her breath and a slight flick of the wrist, she floated a book left on the hallway table into the living room, letting it hand in mid-air next to her Uncle Jethro.
Willow held her breath as he looked at the floating book that was breaking several laws of physics, and every law of gravity, hoping that it was the beginning of acceptance she saw on his face.
Then his body sort of slumped in place, as if under the weight of this new revelation/dimension in his world, and said...
“Huh.”
END
Title: Payback's a Witch Named Willow
Author: lyl_devil
Rating: G
tth100: Willow/NCIS
Prompt: 069-Spell
Words: 545
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Summary:Magic was way cooler.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“...And the pointy hats?”
“Not even at Hallowe'en.” Willow confirmed, glad to be back on safer ground - sort of.
They'd spent the last few hours talking about the technical aspects of magic and spellcasting, and how it fit into the realm of science. She'd tried her best to answer his questions, giving them the thought and consideration they deserved, because he was making a real effort to understand. He was a man who worked on facts and logic, and was trying to fit this new revelation into his world view.
Actually, she'd enjoyed it. She'd never really thought about the science behind the spells she did. Everything was usually all laid out for her. Say these words in this order, with this hand gesture and this was the result. Put these ingredients together, say these words and place the finished product here, and this is what will happen - or not happen. But actually trying to understand why certain ingredients worked this way together, but only with the right words, was beyond her.
It was invigorating to challenge herself in this way. This was something she'd have to get back to, because it certainly warranted further study.
But now they were back to stereotypes and myths. They'd thankfully glossed over the whole 'burned at the stake' thing, because she still hadn't told him about vampires, demons and the occasional apocalypse.
She figured she'd break that to him more slowly, a bit at a time.
Later. Much, much later.
“This whole magic thing is still a little hinky to me.” he admitted after a short silence. “Floating a book can be explained if you believe in stuff like telekinesis.”
Willow never would have picked him for the science fiction type.
“Are you sure it's not just some funky mind power?” he asked her. And the fact that he sounded like he really wanted her to say that, threw her more than anything all evening.
“Fine. I'll prove it!” Willow finally said, turning her own glare on him for even suggesting that her magic was some lame mutant power. Magic was way cooler.
Willow quickly ran to the den, grabbing some paper and a pen. Sitting down next to her uncle, she quickly wrote a - slightly - snarky message, signing her name with a big smiley face and an obnoxious 'Happy Hallowe'en'.
Folding the paper, she placed it on the coffee table, and cast a quick glance at her uncle.
He still had a slightly dubious look on his face, which just pushed her ire further.
Well, fine! Willow thought, irritated and slightly vengeful. She'd had so many people doubting her ability back in Sunnydale, and it hurt that her uncle was the same. Willow tried to tell herself that it was only natural, especially since the entire 'magic' thing was so new for him, but it didn't help.
She'd show him 'telekinesis'!
Several chanted sentences and hand-waving gestures later, the note was gone, Willow felt mildly better, and her uncle looked slightly shell shocked at the light show.
“It'll be on your desk in the morning.” she told him.
Willow tried not to smile too broadly as she left the room.
The kitchen wouldn't clean itself - well, maybe.
END
And this leads us into Unexpected Mystery, which was free-floating in the timeline...see how it all ties together??