The Technopagan

He hasn't figured it out, in all these years -- despite the precedent. Not *him*, with his antiquarian crap about infernal machines.

~

Even now, when she's so close. Willow's ancient laptop on his desk, Macintosh For Dummies by its side. Stubborn prick's pretending it's not there.

~

Hard hands around her neck and no damn time to scream. Nothing like the witch that Willow was, but she had to make things right, she *had* to.

~

She did, too. Eventually. Even if the only power she could muster back then was enough magnetic attraction to make a pencil fall.

~

Dammit, Rupert. Boot up.

________

the end