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First Days of School

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This story is No. 7 in the series "The Cradle Will Fall". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Whoever said first days of school was fun lied. It's a look at each year of first days for the trio who dropped in on Anita.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > General(Past Donor)lckybrFR71215,48825530,0325 Jan 0714 Sep 09No

Chapter One

Hello all this has been rolling in my head for a while and it would'nt hurt to write it out and so i bestow upon you a collection of drabbles all having to do with the girls and their first days of school. As always i'd like to know what you think and thanks for reading.


Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake characters, they belong to Laurell. K Hamilton. I do not own the Buffy The Vampire characters they belong to Joss Whedon, please don't sue me I own nothing not even my socks.

Kindergarten Blues

(Willow’s POV)

I’m not a fan of first days of school. Our very first day of school in the other world, there was an incident with a yellow crayon and a shaggy haired kid named Xander. And as it seems in this universe the yellow crayon has come back to haunt me and I can’t help but want to cry staring down at the broken crayon in my hand.

It was an accident really it was, I didn’t mean to grip it so hard.

The teacher had given me a brand new box and asked us to be careful but still I broke it!

I killed my yellow crayon and there was no Xander here to help me fix the crayon or hide it...

“What’s wrong?” Faith frowned at me pausing in her purple and blue drawing of a grape fruit. I thought grape fruit were pinkish yellow looking things but apparently for Faith they are blue and purple.

I dropped my broken crayon and smoothed the stray hairs away from my face.

“I broke my crayon...” I whispered with wide eyes. Faith gave me a look and I could tell she wanted to laugh.

“It’s just a crayon.” She laughed and I sighed dejectedly.

Today was supposed to be a good day, a brand new day.

Delia flipped her long hair over her shoulder and then looked up from the house she was drawing.

Her hair had been braided the night before so that today it fell in thick waves down her back. She rubbed her nose then took the broken crayon from my hand.

“You worry over nothing sweetie.” Shaking her head she placed it in my hand again holding the broken pieces tightly together.

“Can’t you magic it back together?” she asked and I shook my head.

“Anita said no magic in front of people.” The seer rolled her eyes, “No one is watching.”

Biting my lip I gazed around the room and noticed that everyone was tuned into their own thing, she was right.

I closed my hand around the crayon and pictured it in my head melting back together so that it was perfect and whole.

When I opened my hand it was fixed, I held it up and frowned.

“It’s crooked.”

Faith smiled, “At least it’s not broken.”
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