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Who Needs Fairy Dust? (Teaser)

Dedicated to
BlondesRTakingOver
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This story is the product of the combined minds of XxLochNessMonsterxX and Lilly-rain, hope ya all enjoy and remember; feedback is our friend!

**please note all names of cities or towns mentioned in this story have completely come from the absurd imagination of Stumpy and GWPUHA**

 

´╗┐Enjoy the story,

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

It was late afternoon and the sun was slowly setting leaving an orange glow that warmed the city like an oven. It wasn't an odd sight to see people in Qubert rush for the cool air conditioned pubs, away from the scorching streets in the hope of a cold pint. On this particular day, two older men sat in the far corner of a cool and smoky pub named, The Iced Lake.

It wasn't a new pub, with a few simple fans hanging from the ceiling to keep cool air circulating through the room, and that horrible multicoloured carpet that you would only associated with an old building, it didn't look particularly welcoming. Yet, what it did offer, was the boisterous laughter and happy atmosphere that made the place so appealing to the locals.

Situated relatively close along Fifth St. these men were regulars, who would often come in after work for a few beers and a cheap meal with the aim to catch the start of the game on the fuzzy TV mounted up on the wall in the opposite far corner.

One man, with messy red hair, was slowly chewing on a plate of hot chips, one already half in his mouth as he stared blankly at the TV screen, wishing the game would start before he had to head back to work.

His friend, a scrawnier looking man with brownish hair, wasn't watching the TV, his dark eyes were watching the pretty young barmaid while he sipped on his beer slowly, the cold bringing a sense of satisfaction that made his hand mop roughly across his forehead, his gaze never straying from the almost red chestnut shade of the girls shoulder length hair.

The girl was wiping down the drinks spilt by earlier patrons on the front bar, mumbling silently to the background music that was softly floating around her, and he found this fascinating. His fingers tapped the side of his beer glass as he watched, his head tilted to the side, like a wild cat considering its prey.

The girl didn't notice his gaze, she was busy tending to an older man who you wouldn't expect to find in a sports pub, with a greying head of hair and a thin frame, he was seated on a stool and looking her way as he spoke about taxes and pensions. She smiled politely when the man laughed loudly at his own joke before he ordered another drink.

The girl liked this best about working at The Iced Lake. She found it fascinating hearing the stories of war patrons and the bizarre accounts of what to do with your chewing gum once you had finished with it. Each day she felt like she went home knowing something new about the world and today was no different.

The man she was talking to was a politician, not her average customer, but interesting nevertheless. She had never expected to find a politician interesting; he was telling her about tax rates and his role in the government. Normally politics would have bored her, but the passion in his eyes seemed to send a delightful sense of contagious warmth through her body.

A person with as much passion over their work as this man evidently did made her triumph in his fortune. Something that she wished she possessed. It wasn't that she didn't love her job; it was just tiring, mentally and physically. Sometimes she wished she could spend the evening wrapped up in a thermal blanket watching Charmed re-runs, until she couldn't peel her eyes open any longer. Yet, for a job like hers there were some perks. She looked over at the plate of free food that she received every night as a thank you for her hard work, and inhaled the smell deeply.

It was then that she felt her eyes draw to the scrawny man in the corner. She had no idea why her eyes rested on his head of curly brown hair. He didn't seem to be paying her any attention, only running a rough finger continuously around the rim of his glass. He was looking at the old TV pinned precariously to the wall, the slight tip of his mouth brought up in a light smirk.

He looked normal enough, she decided, pulling her eyes away and running a cloth over the counter, mopping up yet another spillage. However, she once again felt her mind wander. This time when she looked over at the man, he was staring at her, his gaze locked with her own. She looked away first.

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