Characters: Harry, Anna, Fay, Mal
Word count: 896
Summary: Glass slippers make good weapons.
Author's notes: A little bit of Hallowe'en fluff, written for the 'glass' prompt on my occhallenge table. Happy Hallowe'en to those who celebrate!
“You leave my daddy alone!” Fay yelled at the trog attempting to eat my face.
I would have been touched by her bravery, if I wasn’t busy trying to get the trog to stop eating my face.
Trogs like Halloween. Their modus operandi tends to be as follows:
Step One: Go to the human world (the veil between our world and the Nevernever is especially thin on Halloween)
Step Two: Go trick or treating (easily done, since their skin looks like a bad rubber mask anyway. Most people don’t think twice about a small creature showing up at their door)
Step Three: Eat candy acquired from trick or treating (trogs love candy)
Step Four: Go insane from eating candy (it’s the worst sugar high you have ever seen)
Step Five: Cause mayhem due to insanity (you think it was a kid who egged your house? It probably wasn’t.)
We were on Step Four and I was attempting to prevent Step Five. I’d started off with my best Gandalf ‘thou shalt not pass’ impression, which had done nothing. Then I’d tried a little ‘maybe we could make a deal’ tactic, which also failed. Now we were on to face eating.
“I said, leave him alone!” Fay yelled again.
Then a glass slipper hit the trog in the eye and it howled and rolled off of me. I am not even kidding.
I took the opportunity to get to my feet and prepare for battle. Only, there wasn’t much fight left in him. He was really, seriously in pain. I didn’t know their eyes were so sensitive, but clearly that was something to file away for the future.
I almost felt sorry for the little guy, who was screaming in agony. Almost.
“Thrice I say and done, begone from this world,” I said, channeling my Gandalf again. “Or feel the further wrath of...Cinderella.”
“Yeah!” Fay said, from behind me.
“I go, I go,” the trog said, in his grumbling little voice. “I go.”
And he went, disappearing and leaving a slimy mess of ectoplasm in his place. And one glass slipper. Oh, and a Unicef box full of pennies that I had tried unsuccessfully to use as a weapon.
“Everyone okay?” I asked, turning around to examine my posse.
Anna Murphy, who had long ago learned to roll with the magical punches, gave me a calm thumbs up. She’d reached the age where she was sort of too old for trick-or-treating, but she still sort of wanted to do it anyway. So she’d compromised and offered to help me take Fay and Mal around. She could watch the kids while I watched for danger.
“Twick-or-tweat!” Mal yelled, throwing his arms up in the air excitedly. He didn’t quite get the whole Halloween concept yet, but he was content to wear the pumpkin costume Gramma Katie made for him (provided he didn’t have to wear the hat) and yell ‘trick-or-treat’ when prompted (or unprompted).
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.
Fay hobbled over to inspect her shoe, her Cinderella costume glittering in the light of the streetlamps. Katie had outdone herself on it – I’d barely been able to get Fay out of it since it arrived.
“My shoe is sticky,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She looked up at me. “You’ll have to carry it.”
I thought that was fair enough, considering her intervention was the reason I still had a face. “Nice aim there, cutestuff,” I said. She beamed. “But you know you shouldn’t interfere like that. I fight monsters by myself, remember?”
“But you needed help!” she objected. She put her hands on her hips in a way reminiscent of Mira’s ‘bossy’ stance. “If you were really, really in danger, I would have run away.”
I couldn’t decide if that was reassuring or not. I did decide to postpone the debate until we were at home. People were starting to near the area and I didn’t want them overhearing us fighting over fighting monsters. I’d purposefully chosen a more deserted part of the street to make my attack, but it wasn’t going to be deserted for much longer.
“I think that’s enough trick-or-treating,” I said to my posse. “What do you say?”
“Okay,” Fay said, sounding a little sad, but not objecting. We’d done a pretty good round before the trog attack.
“Twick-or-tweat!” Mal shouted, from Anna’s arms.
“I just have to say, trick-or-treating with you guys is awesome,” Anna said. “I’m totally coming next year.”
“You’re welcome to,” I said. “Thanks for protecting my children.”
She gave me another thumbs-up. I retrieved the Unicef box and shoe, then lifted Fay onto my hip. I didn’t want her hobbling all the way home.
“Now I’m just like the real Cinderella,” Fay said, as I tucked her shoe into my back pocket. “I’ve lost a slipper!”
“We better get you home before your coach turns back into a pumpkin,” I said.
Anna lifted Mal in her arms a little. “Too late, I think,” she said, with a laugh.
“Twick or tweat!” Mal yelled again, as we fell into step.
And Cinderella, a pumpkin, a kick-ass teenager and a wizard headed for home.