3

He loved his friends, but none of them understood how much he just wanted to be on his own without having to rely on anyone else, not be the roommate they felt sorry for and shit.

Once they were finished showering, he pulled on gray sweats and a navy blue tank top.

Exhausted though he was, he was still happy to admire Ronan in nothing but sweatpants, sword and armor tattoos shimmering ever so faintly.

After they were in bed, lights out, Ronan asked, "Are you all right? You've seemed slightly off since we went to your apartment."

"Lemme process a little longer."

"Okay." Ronan kissed the back of his neck, and was asleep shortly after.

Lying there safe and warm in Ronan's arms, secure behind the wards he'd laid around the house, his problems almost seemed distant and minor.

But two people he had considered friends had refused to help him, hadn't even talked to him really.

On the same day his parents' old friend had evicted him with no warning on a bogus reason.

Eviction notices usually gave you five days with circumstances like this, and he was already down one.

Just four days to capture and kill three jack frosts, get a storage unit, pack up and transport his stuff and, most painful of all, rehome his pixies.

Thinking about it, when he'd had some of them for years and now he'd soon have sprites because of the breeding male he'd caught back in December… it wasn't fair, he had gotten permission.

He was a good tenant, there'd never been a single complaint.

He was a good customer, a good friend, a good witch.

Hopefully it was an easily fixed problem, but he had the sinking feeling things were only going to get worse.

Much, much worse.

Eventually, despite his turbulent mind, he fell asleep.

*~*~*

He'd barely reached the kitchen for breakfast when there was a loud, ominous knock at the door.

Stones dropped into his stomach as he realized his time was up.

Traci frowned.

"Match, babe, why do you look like you're going to pass out?"

"Because I lost my temper last night and broke into the flower shop."

"What!" the others said, Penelope dropping the egg she'd been about to crack on the floor.

Benny gave him a look.

"Get that story ready to tell.

Didn't know you had it in you." He went to answer the door as the knocking came again, and Match dropped heavily into he nearest chair, stomach churning at the smell of the food he'd been starving for just a moment ago.

Ronan's hands fell on his shoulders, rubbing soothingly.

"Thought Traci was the only one who flirted with getting arrested."

"Haha," Traci said, but it was half-hearted, worried attention on Match.

A few minutes later, Benny reappeared, followed by a couple of cops, Cody and Scott, who frequently worked with the Guard, especially as a go-between with Mayor Wright.

"Apparently Wright wants to see all of us right now, no excuses.

I'll go get dressed."

They all dispersed to do that, but met in Benny's room when they were ready.

"Match, what in the hell is going on?"

Tersely, unable to look at any of them, the humiliation and anger still raw despite a good night's sleep, he explained had happened with Maddy, Eric, and the others.

"What the fuck," Ronan muttered.

"I see Maddy all the time at our book club every other Sunday.

You're her second favorite thing to talk about.

I half thought you'd wind up dating her long before I could stop being a chickenshit and ask you out."

Match looked at him like he'd lost his mind, because he clearly had.

Dating Maddy would be like dating his cousin or something.

"Eric is even weirder, you guys have coffee all the damn time," Benny said.

"I'd have fucking broken in too.

I go to that diner all the time."

"Literally," Traci said.

"They have our orders memorized, we go at least three times a week.

I work at that coffee shop while I'm waiting for the kids to get out of school.

I'm gonna have a whole lot of shit to say that they won't like."

Benny nodded.

"Yeah, gonna pay all of them a visit later and get answers.

For now, though, we need to deal with whatever Wright wants with us.

Let's get going, and be ready for anything. I get the feeling things are going to get a whole lot worse before this is over."

Match followed the others out of the room, only moderately comforted by Ronan's brief hug.

With the snow that had worsened significantly in the night, it took the better part of an hour to make the short drive.

When they finally arrived, Match was already exhausted again, and he hadn't been the one driving.

Poor Benny looked ready for a drink, and it was barely seven in the morning.

They should already be getting to work, damn it.

Three jack frosts? Lecturing and arresting him could wait.

Except when they were shown into the usual meeting room, complete with Keurig, paper cups, cheap shrink-wrapped danishes and muffins, it wasn't just Wright waiting for them.

There was also a witch.

Not one he recognized, which was a bad sign, because he knew all the witches in the state.

Not well, but he knew their names and faces and specialties. "Who are you?"

"Your replacement," Wright said coldly.

Match was too stunned to speak, but the others had volume enough for ten, and it took at least that many minutes before anyone calmed down.

"My replacement?" he finally asked.

"I haven't done anything that warrants replacing."

Wright regarded him coldly, but there was a lowkey smugness to his demeanor that raked across Match's nerves.

"Three jack frosts, and you didn't notice until too late? You took three times as long as you should have to get all the wards up.

I've been told that many places aren't comfortable having you in their places of business, and that you're unreasonable tenant flagrantly breaking rules."

"Is this the fucking Twilight Zone?" Ronan asked.

"Fine," Benny said abruptly.

"You want to fire Match and hire a new witch? Have it your way."

Match would be hurt at being so callously discarded, but he knew that carefully calm, idle tone.

"What's your name?" he asked the woman.

"Luna."

Of course it was.

"Qualifications?" Benny asked.

"All of that can be discussed later, when there isn't a crisis," Wright said.

Benny folded his arms across his chest.

"Fine, but the paperwork can't.

I want it now, all of it.

Termination papers. Employment papers. I'm not budging from this room until I have them to sign, every last page, and suitable witnesses to sign as well."

Wright glanced at the cops who'd brought them.

"They'll suffice," Benny said in such a magnanimous manner that it was clear Wright very nearly punched him for a second.

"Bring me Match's contract as well, I want to make certain we're in compliance with the termination penalties and such."

Wright scowled.

"Termination penalties?"

Benny ignored him, fixing himself a cup of coffee before taking a seat in the chair that was clearly intended for Wright on most days.

Just minutes later Wright's admin came bustling in.

Jeanette, ruthlessly efficient at her job, and from the barest look she cast Wright, she wasn't happy with him. Good.

Feeling small and tired, Match fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat close to Benny.

Benny flipped quickly through his contract, making a few notes on a pad of paper Jeanette had of course brought him along with everything else.

Then he moved on to the termination paper, signing briskly before sliding them across the table to Wright.

"Sign, and we'll be that much closer to sending Match on his way and getting your witch hired."

"What termination penalties?"

"You should have read Match's contract before you did all this," Benny said, smile all sharp, polite malice.

"Sign, or back down entirely and undo all the bullshit trouble you've caused to fire him."

Wright bristled.

"I haven't done anything."

"Then sign."

Wright huffed but signed, and slid the papers back across the table for the two witnesses to sign.

"Great," Benny said when that was done.

"As you fired him with little explanation and no evidence, without the proper warnings, write-ups, and coaching sessions to give him a chance to improve at his job, he's entitled to a severance pay of three times his annual pay.

Cut the check and we'll be allowed to hire the new witch."

Match choked on his coffee.

Because it had never occurred to him that he would be fired, because he was one of the best witches in the state and good at his job, he'd forgotten entirely about that clause and just how much it demanded.

"I had cause!" Wright protested, but his outrage was feeble.

Because he knew damn good and well that he had no choice but to pay it.

His only other option was to rescind the termination, which he couldn't do all that easily with the papers signed and witnessed.

He could try to contest it on the grounds he had good reason to fire Match, but that would take weeks, if not months, of arbitration and even litigation.

Snarling in anger, clearly thinking harder than ever about the idea of hitting someone, even though this entire situation was his fault and his fault only, Wright bellowed, "Jeanette!"

The door opened again, and she stepped inside, dark red heels clicking on tile before she crossed over to carpet.

"I'm not deaf.

Here's the check." She left again, not having looked at Wright once.

Benny looked it over, smirked, and handed it over to Match.

"Already signed and everything.

At least someone in this office knows what they're doing.

Match, go home. Yours, Ronan's, mine, whatever."

Fingers shaking slightly, Match took the check and stowed it inside an inner pocket of his jacket.

He stood, meeting Ronan's gaze briefly, not remotely certain what he was trying to communicate, and then left, walking with a calm he didn't feel.

Out on the street, he went straight to the bank because no way was he walking around with such a ridiculous fucking check just sitting around in his pocket.

Of course that kind of money had to be verified and shit, so he was stuck in the bank for nearly an hour.

When he was finally free, he went to check on his wards first, because he might no longer have a job but he wasn't going to abandon his duties either.

Not when Benny had probably taken great pleasure in explaining to Wright that no, all of Match's wards could not simply be taken over by Luna.

Nor could they call him back and have him transfer them.

For one, it wasn't that simple.

Wards weren't keys and passcodes and shit that could be handed off at the end of a shift.

For two, that was phenomenally stupid.

Even if he could hand the wards over, he couldn't sign them away, he'd always have access.

They were made with his magic, his blood.

He'd always be connected to them.

Universal access.

Stupid.

If Wright, who'd always been kind of annoying and slimy but had never seemed this odious, had done things properly then the process would have taken around a year.

It had taken a little over nine months for his mother to transition everything to him before she fully retired.

Even then, he'd needed her help off and on for another few months before she'd felt comfortable moving away to enjoy retirement where people couldn't try to make her work anyway, or constantly compare the two of them.

He ached to call her right then, but this wasn't her problem, and the moment she heard about it she'd come flying in with fire spells ready.

She deserved to enjoy her retirement.

Anyway, Benny was probably having the time of his life making Wright miserable.

How could Match possibly take that from him?

Not certain what else to do, still reeling from the stupid amount of money he now had to his name, he went to Ronan's house.

At least there he could warm up, get some coffee, and start sorting out how to move all his shit to storage until he could find a new apartment.

Though… hmm…

When he finally reached their house, he didn't even get a chance to knock on the door before it flew open and Phil all but yanked him inside.

"Ronan called.

My goodness, you've had quite the past couple of days.

Come, come, Rick already has the water heating."

In the kitchen, he was ushered over to the bar, where just seconds later a cup of hot chocolate was set in front of him.

Even better than coffee.

"Thank you."

"So tell us everything.

Ronan called and explained, but it's good to have the whole of the tale from the source."

So he told them, starting with the eviction notice he'd been too ashamed to mention before, all the way up to every single place that had thrown him out.

Recounting it just brought all the hurt back, the sting and humiliation of betrayal.

He'd spent literally his entire life training to protect or protecting these people.

His grandfather had died to give him the magic to do that. Yet they couldn't have even passed him a note to explain what was going on. Just left him high and dry.

"Tidy sum of money," Phil said, looking at him slyly.

"More than enough to put a good down payment on a cottage style home on Crane Street."

"I can't—" Match stopped, because that wasn't true.

He could afford it.

Whatever the mortgage payment wound up being, he'd be able to afford that too, because knowing Benny he'd be hired back before the week was out, if not the day.

"Yeah, yeah let's do that."

Rick took away the hot chocolate stuff and got out the cocktail stuff instead.

"It is nine-thirty in the morning," Phil said, looking at him in exasperate amusement.

"Snow day, darling," Rick replied breezily.

"That's basically the same as airport rules."

Rolling his eyes, Phil took his drink and wandered off.

"I have some phone calls to make around town."

"I am going to get started on buying your house," Rick said.

"We'll go inspect it while the others continue to torment Wright."

Then they were both gone, leaving Match alone with his cocktail in the kitchen, flustered and bemused, but cautiously hopeful.

With nothing else to do for the moment, stuck in the dreaded wait period of everything, he went out to the porch, fired up the woodstove, and cuddled up under blankets to read a book on his phone and enjoy his morning cocktail.

It was probably the laziest, most decadent morning he'd ever had.

All with a trio of jack frosts running around, but for the moment there was nothing he could do.

For once in his damned life he wasn't going to worry himself to death over it anyway.

Benny had his back, and their group would never let people get harmed in the meantime.

He'd just finished the cocktail when Rick came and found him.

"Time for a showing!"

So off they went, with barely enough time for him to put his coat and shoes back on, walking only a couple of blocks down and over to the cottage.

Rick got the key out of the mailbox, which was a really dumb place to keep it, and inside they went.

The house was beautiful.

He'd already been enchanted from the outside, but inside was even better.

The house was divided by a hallway, but the front half held the living room and kitchen/dining, with wide, open archways that gave the whole thing an open plan vibe.

The back half of the house was two bedrooms and, at the very end of the hall, almost capping it, was a laundry slash mudroom and a bathroom that was larger and nicer than he'd been expecting.

The bedrooms were mirrors of each, with a large closest built into one corner and a pair of large windows overlooking their respective side of the house, and surprisingly pretty and not-obnoxious ceiling fans with good light.

One would be perfect for his bedroom, the other for his workshop.

He could put plants all over the house—the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the windowsills.

In the back there was more than enough room for his veggie garden, herb garden, there was already a good-sized shed, a little deck area that could hold more potted plants, the fences would be able to support trellises… and even with all of that, there'd be more than enough room to build a pixie house, and he could even build it off the mudroom with its own door so he could easily reach it in all kinds of weather.

Match wanted to cry.

"So yes?" Rick asked.

"Yes!" Match said.

"I can't believe I can have it."

"Give me your bank info and leave the rest to me, dear boy.

You'll need to sign papers but I'll handle the rest."

"I don't know much about house buying but I know it's a lot harder than that."

Rick scoffed.

"Not when you have me and my connections and my husband guilt tripping the entire town into doing whatever necessary to make their witch happy again."

"Well, far be it for me to argue with getting to do things the easy way for once.

Thank you."

Rick hugged him.

"You make Ronan happier than I've ever seen him.

Keep it that way and I'll give you the moon my boy."

"My house isn't that big." He frowned.

"Do you think it's too small?"

"For if someday you wanted your Paladin to attend you fulltime?" Rick asked with a grin.

"No, His Highness will be just fine so long as he had somewhere to park his precious car."

Match's mouth twitched before succumbing to a grin of its own.

"No peasant on-street parking for the princess, I know."

"See, you understand. All set."

Thankfully there was a decent driveway that went up along the right side of the house without going so far as to encroach on the backyard.

They could probably even add on a carport or something if he really wanted, somewhere down the line.

"Let's get home, hmm? I'll get all this as fast-tracked as possible.

Which, given the aforementioned guilt tripping, means everything will go with record setting speeds.

Normally closing would take about thirty to forty days, but I'll get that down to at least twenty, mark my words.

"In the meantime, you can store all your stuff at our place, and that fuckhead Connell can wallow in the misery of losing a good tenant who never caused him any problems at all.

Wait until your mother hears about all this, hmm?"

"Ugh," Match said as they headed out, walking through the snow back home.

"I have specifically not told her about any of this.

She's retired, none of this drama is her problem, she should be able to relax and enjoy life.

Between Benny and Rick, sounds like the problem has been resolved."

When they got home, he called to rent a small moving van.

His furniture he'd just leave for someone to take, none of it was worth keeping, not when he could buy better stuff now.

He'd still be getting it from the thrift store, but he could get reasonably priced good stuff instead of whatever cheapest shit that mostly stood on its own he could find.

He'd be saving all his real spending for pretty plant pots that he'd never been able to get before.

Large plants he couldn't afford or fit in his apartment.

All the foods and herbs for his gardens.

All the things he could buy his pixies now, though first he had to make their enclosure. How did one go about doing that?

He was so enthralled with making lists and roughing out budgets that he nearly jumped into the ceiling when his phone rang.

"Fucking hell, me," he muttered before snatching the phone up. "Ronan?"

"Hey, sexy.

We have the jack frosts roughly trapped in a general area, but we need your help to really cage them in so we can deal with this once and for all.

Find us at Turtle Dove.

After we deal with this, you'll be getting your job back."