Lux Calida

So this is going slow, huh, Misty thought to herself, smirking into their heated kiss.

It wasn't a complaint, certainly. She'd waited a lifetime for this, and finally, here she was with Headmistress Foxx purring and bucking underneath her. The night was already going better than she'd imagined.

Cordelia's long legs were wrapped around the feral witch, drawing her closer as they deep kissed and all but dry humped on the couch.

Oh yes, this was pure bliss.

Misty abandoned the woman's cushy lips in favor of sucking on her exquisite ivory neck, which earned her an equally exquisite breathy moan. As she ran a hand underneath her lover's shirt, Cordelia spoke her name as a question.

"Yeah, baby," the Cajun replied in a sexy drawl, moving higher to insistently kiss and bite her jawline.

"Misty.. please.." Delia stammered with lust-hazed difficulty. "We should stop."

god dammit.

"Oh," Misty said softly. "Right. Of course."

Blushing bright red, she dismounted quickly.

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, ain't no need for that," Misty replied with a smile. "We'll take it nice an' easy, like ya said."

"I just- well, I suppose I forgot myself."

The girl giggled.

"Yeah, ya think so?"

"To be fair," Delia said with a grin, "you didn't exactly help."

"What's fair about expectin' me to resist you?" Misty countered, blatantly staring up and down the woman's body. "I mean, I ain't a fucken superhero."

Fighting off the frantic butterflies that stirred to life under Misty's suggestive gaze, Cordelia pulled in a deep breath, leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly to the corner of Misty's mouth.

"I think it's time to say good night, Misty."

The wild witch sighed.

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty late, ain't it. Girls'll be home soon."

She stood and helped the other blonde to her feet, holding her hand and looking into ebony eyes.

"Now, I don't mean to be oversteppin'," she murmured softly, "but would it be alright if I walked ya up to your room?"

Cordelia gazed back at her, determinedly not staring at her lips as the girl spoke. Suddenly unable to trust her own voice, she nodded silently and allowed herself to be led out of the room and up the grand staircase until they were standing at her door. Misty tenderly kissed the back of the woman's delicate hand before wrapping arms around her waist and pulling her close.

She flirted noses as though to kiss her, but with barely the ghost of her breath on the alchemist's lips,she pulled away, noting the way Delia involuntarily leaned with her as she went. The Cajun smirked.

"Good night, Cordelia," she said almost too casually.

"Yes." Her tone held disappointment, but she hid it with a gorgeous smile. (what the hell are you disappointed about?? "slow and easy" was your idea.) "Good night, Misty."

With that, she opened her door, and they parted ways for the night.

*****

delia, you're a mess.

you had her, finally had her!

and here you are.

in your bed.

all alone.

again.

looks like it's just you and your vibrator tonight.

The headmistress pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Dammit."

She rolled over and opened her night stand, retrieving her faithful pink companion, clicking it on and wasting no time in pressing it to her clit. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, she allowed her fantasies to run wild. Wound up as she was, Cordelia promptly fell to panting, biting back screams, and whimpering the swamp witch's name.

Quickly (too quickly, in fact), the pale blonde came undone with a breathy, shuddering "F-f-fuck, oh Misty-y-y!" before retiring her toy and rolling onto her side. She hugged a pillow tightly to her chest, imagining her ethereal lover wrapped in her arms. With a longing sigh, the witch let her ebony eyes fall shut, and dreamed of Misty Day.

*****

"God dammit, where'n the Hell is that girl?" Misty muttered to herself as she paced Madison's room. The heat ignited inside her by her evening with Cordelia had reached a fever pitch, and something needed to be done about it. Rubbing one out seemed like a waste of time when there was a much more enticing solution just down the hall. That idea had felt brilliant almost an hour ago.

But now, here she was, waiting an eternity for a girl who'd likely be too drunk to stand when she came in. Still though... standing wasn't exactly requisite for what Misty had in mind. She chewed her thumb nail and continued her aimless strides around the room.

Another hour passed and Misty stomped her boot once in burning frustration.

"Damn, damn, double damn," she growled under her breath, before flopping onto the bed, defeated.

Moments later she heard the telltale tottering click-clack of drunk Madison in stilettos. Misty rose to her feet, reaching the door as soon as it swung open. Instantly, her hands found Madison's face and she set about devouring her mouth. And then, the girl whimpered softly, and Misty knew something was wrong.

Pulling back, she gazed at her intently. The girl squirmed and fought to escape her stare, but Misty held her firmly in place. To her surprise, she noted that hazel eyes were red and typically impeccable makeup was streaked; she'd clearly been crying.

As she refused to make eye contact and her bottom lip began to quiver, Misty's hand travelled from Madison's face to run through her disheveled honey-blonde hair, furrowing her brow.

"Maddi," she murmured. "What on Earth happened to you?"

"N-nothing," the starlet slurred. "I'mmm fine."

"The Hell you are. Tell me what's wrong."

Maddi shook her head and Misty grabbed her shoulders.

"Darlin' you might as well tell me right now," she began earnestly. "I'll find out one way or t'other, and I ain't gon' let it rest until I do."

"Mistyyy," she half sobbed, her knees starting to give way beneath her.

The sound was so plaintive, so helpless, so out of character, that Misty simply couldn't bear it. She abandoned all thoughts of stern interrogation.

"Oh, my darlin' baby girl," the Cajun cooed, catching her before she fell. "Alright, come on, let's get ya cleaned up."

The tall blonde swung Madison up in her arms, chest tightening at how tiny and broken she seemed, like a baby bird who had fallen from the nest. She carried her to the bathroom, where she ran a bath and undressed them both.

Helping the semi-conscious girl into the spacious tub, she carefully climbed in behind her and proceeded to scrub every inch of that delicate, frail body. As she did so, her thoughts ran wild with pictures of could have happened, and a deep scowl found it's way onto her face.

She wordlessly went through the motions of washing, rinsing, drying, dressing, all the while pondering her course of action. There probably wasn't a snowball's chance in Hell of Madison breathing a word about her ordeal. Come morning, she would pretend nothing had ever happened. But there was one other person in this house who could tell her.

Zoe.

*****

The pair curled up together in the starlet's bed, Misty wrapping her arms protectively around Madison, holding her tight to her breast and softly rubbing her back. A few moments passed before a tiny sniffle broke the silence. The Cajun hugged harder and warmer, somehow, and the girl lost the tenous hold on her composure, her petite frame shuddering as her very heart came sobbing out of her.

"That's right, let go of it," Misty whispered against silky hair. "Put your burden on me, child. I'll bear it for you."

It went this way for a time until there were no tears left to cry. Wiping her face with the palm of her hand, the telekinetic finally spoke.

"Misty," she said, a bit of a slur persisting in her voice.

"Hmm, angel?"

"I feel... better. A little lighter. Or something. Thank you."

"Hush now, sugar, no need to be thankin' me, just get ya to sleep, hmm?"

Madison nodded against Misty's chest, settling in deeper with a sigh.

Scarcely a minute had passed before deep breaths and small twitches bore testament to the girl's descent into slumber. Misty carefully unwrapped herself and abandoned the warm nest they'd created in her bed.

Placing a kiss to Madison's forehead, she went to see Miss Robichoux's newest resident.

*****

The young witch sat in her room, staring blankly at the wall. What a traumatic night out it had been. Madison, those boys, the bus flip. Jesus.

As she pondered, walking a fine line between shock and panic, her door burst open without so much as a knock.

"Misty! You scared the Hell out of me! It's 4am, what are you doing?"

The Cajun closed the door behind her, approaching closely. When she was so close that Zoe could fell the burn of blue eyes on her face, Misty spoke in a low, tight voice.

"What. The fuck. Happened."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about.

"Don't feed me that bullshit, Zoe," she hissed. "I know somethin' went down tonight, 'n I know you know what it was. Now spit it the fuck out."

"Why don't you ask Madison," the young girl answered quietly.

"Because she ain't talking, Zoe! Ain't ya supposed to be her friend??"

"I am her friend!"

"Good, then act like it! I can't fix it if I don't know what the fuck it is I'm supposed to be fixin'!

Zoe eyed the swamp witch curiously.

"What's it to you? Why do you care so much about 'fixing it'?"

Misty clicked her tongue, clearly irritated, and Zoe continued.

"I mean, she's a raging bitch who basically hates you, so why is it your problem?"

"Listen, little girl," she said acidly, "Madison is a sister witch of this Coven, and we're sworn to protect one another. Now, I take my oaths very seriously. But I guess it ain't your fault your generation's parents raised a buncha self-absorbed li'l punk asses."

The girl bristled visibly.

"Prove me wrong, kid."

Silence.

Misty scoffed.

"Well, I guess your generation ain't got no balls, neither," she said, hands on her hips.

"Fine!" Zoe snapped. "Fine, I'll tell you.

"Good choice," the feral blonde rasped. "I'm all ears."