Take My Feelings Away

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1 Take My Feelings Away

Harry stared into the flickering amber glow of the stately Victorian-style Vera Manor fireplace. He repeated his request to doe-eyed Maggie—whose initially surprised expression transformed into disturbed confusion.

"Please," he begged aloud. "I nearly caused the demise of our Command Center and the integrity of the Charmed Ones, the very foundations of the magical universe, even. This cannot go on—I must shield my emotions in order to carry on my duties. I've been neglecting my duties—derelict, even, if I dare say so myself."

Maggie continued to stare into the firelight, unblinking, as she ruminated on what exactly she should say, to the man she knew, deep down, was the second best thing that had ever happened to Macy (the first being Macy's discovery of herself and Mel, of course). She counted to twenty, slowly and methodically, before beginning to speak.

"Harry, before we went into hiding, I took a psychology class on the butterfly effect. Tl;dr: one small thing can unleash crazy change, war, whatever. And didn't you tell us that magical interference can have unforeseen consequences?" Maggie raised an arched eyebrow, not unsympathetic. "Considering Macy's and your origins and your capabilities and the chemistry you two have, that's like hiding a freaking nebula that spawns only once every 12 million years—for the sun, I mean."

Harry gave a wry chuckle. "I see you've been reviewing your astronomy." He gave a long sigh and stared at the pillared fireplace sconces in front of him, their shadows flickering almost as if they were in a spritely dance. He considered himself a cultured, sensible man, and though open to learning from anyone and everyone, had never once thought until now that he would be seeking the relationship advice of a lady seven-plus decades his junior. There's certainly a first time for everything, he mused to himself.

"Macy's been lied to her entire life, Harry. She lost decades with the mom Mel and I had, and she's suffered more heartbreak than anyone ever should. Numbing one's feelings—numbing yours," she lifted her chin, referring to him, "would cause her even more pain. Doesn't that violate your whitelighter rules? Or something?" Maggie sought to appeal to his unconventional career-driven side. "And to be an effective whitelighter—or self-actualized person or whatever—you can't choose being safe over personal growth. Maya Mendoza once said "No amount of security is worth the suffering of a mediocre life chained to a routine that has killed your dreams."

Harry nodded introspectively. "Maggie Vera, you have most certainly given me food for thought."

"And," Maggie remarked offhandedly, "numbing your emotions wouldn't work anyways."

"Why not?" Harry inquired.

"Emotional transference transfers the emotions I feel. And dammit Harry, you are the best whitelighter we've ever had, you're basically our British Prince Harry older brother, and you two have the most *erm* glass-shattering chemistry. Nice try dude, but you need a better excuse than that." Maggie smirked a bit. "Also, try not to break our mirror next time—that was a vintage store Marisol find. We Veras like our mirrors large and whole."

Harry blushed a deep rouge and was about to depart, but Maggie suddenly jolted in her tell-tale premonition stance.

Premonition

Maggie was in the Vera Manor garden, it was a lovely summertime afternoon, and the glass tealights were sparkling in the shimmering sunlight. She realized she was holding the hand of a little girl, whose tiny, caramel-colored corkscrew curls encircled her visage like a miniature halo. She took a closer look at this toddler child, who was dressed to the nines in an English blue floral cotton dress, wearing a matching printed bow that had somehow slipped further down in her hair. Maggie heard peals of laughter, and followed the voices to a fancy table, where she saw what appeared to be gaily-wrapped birthday presents, a large "1st birthday" banner, and the familiar faces of Ray, Mel, and a positively glowing Harry and Macy.

Maggie exhaled sharply, finally opening her eyes.

"What is it?" Harry asked, curiously.

"N-nothing."

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