Stranded

Disclaimer: Nothing in these drabbles that you recognize belongs to me.


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Willow scowled, kicking the flat tire. She was supposed to be turning in her report to the office in Bath, by now, the last thing to do before her vacation started. She fought the urge to transport herself there by magic. It would be so easy to use just a little bit of magic to get herself home.… She wrapped her jacket tighter around herself to ward off the evening chill, and scanned the back country road. No cars in sight, though there was a farmhouse—

She flung herself back into the hedge, narrowly avoiding getting run over by a maniac purple triple-decker bus that had appeared out of nowhere, reeking of magic. The door opened.

“Well?” said a pimply man in a ratty uniform. “Where ya headed?” Behind him, an even more decrepit driver ignored her while a shrunken head gave her a sardonic grin.

“Excuse me?”

“Yer a witch, aintcha? You need transportation? Where ya headed?”

Willow cautiously sent out a tendril of power. He didn’t feel like a demon, or evil.

“We don’t got all day, y’know,” the man said impatiently.

With a last glance back at her car, Willow stepped aboard. “Bath, please. The Watcher’s Council.”