A/N: This story has been fully revamped! I strongly believe this version is at least five times than the previous one. At first I only meant to fix spelling, grammar and run on sentences but I got so in to rewriting, I simply could not refrain myself. This was one my favorite fanfics I ever penned so I hope you enjoy it as well!
And with all the changing I made, the word count went from 1,434 to 2,652 (neither counting headers or any other information that is not the story). That's simply amazing to me. If you spot any errors of spelling and grammar, please notify me of them! That's really why I edited the whole stories based on so many errors it was riddled with.
Also, yes the words hell, freakin' and damn appear in the story sparingly hence I increased the age from K to K+. I refuse to place in T because I'm sure that kids these days have heard, said, read, and wrote worse than that.
"Sabbbbbbbbbbrina!" Amanda's voice ricocheted throughout the walls of the house of the Spellman's house. That sheer volume of her voice could have been for the purpose to awake the dead. What it was truly for was to gain the attention of one of the current occupants of the house; Sabrina Spellman obviously.
Sabrina had grown smoothly from an adorable adolescent to an attractive young adult with a perfect hold on her magical powers. She was now the owner and head of the Spellman house in the mortal realm. Hilda was living with her husband and Zelda now had a residence in the Otherrealm; her life was often jam-packed with lectures and teaching of science. Of course, it would be quite lonely and dry in the house without Salem Saberhagen.
Salem, still sentence as a feline for another 90-something years also retained his one-liners and wit with his dashes of good advice. His appearance was the same, black fur and emerald eyes. He owned a body of a cat, not a human, so a few years really doesn't do that much to you.
The newest resident of the household was Sabrina's malevolent cousin, Amanda Wicca. She's been living in the house with Sabrina and Salem for a year and a half now so she could attend Witchright Hall. There was an ulterior motive with the change of environment; Amanda got away from her ditzy mother and husband number twenty six (or was it twenty eight?).
With a similar physical transition of Sabrina, she evolved from cute, bratty kid to a pretty seventeen year old girl. Though she shed her childhood brattiness—but still often called a brat—she nevertheless owns a smoldering temper problem. It seemed Witchright Hall hasn't been doing its job that entirely well.
Her temper problem was getting a little better as Sabrina would rave to you (no thanks to that school). Not by much, but nonetheless! It was something and much better than her burning Salem over a campfire because of Salem spilling coffee on her dress—by pure accident of course.
Nonetheless, the pyro involving conflict was hastily extinguished thanks to Sabrina's quick thinking. That quick thinking was Sabrina swiftly wrapping her arms around Amanda's waist, giving her little kisses down her neck which to everyone's surprise, it worked and more.
And that 'more' was Amanda obviously not making Salem a Monte Cristo by turning around giving Sabrina a kiss on her lips, presenting Salem with the chance to run away. He gratefully took up that offer and he sobbed his signature sobs while fleeing. That was a year ago.
"Hmm, it seems that the witch is finally up." Salem commented, not looking up from his newspaper that was fashioned neatly on the island that he was also sitting on. He was right. It was six PM and Amanda had been sleeping for a good twenty hours.
Sabrina chuckled and kept stirring her meat sauce with the meatballs in. She periodically checked up on the garlic bread that was baking in the toaster oven. After a few seconds later, Amanda loped down the steps that were near the kitchen and had a sticky note clenched her hand.
"Why did you put a sticky note on the mirror in the bathroom?" Amanda inquired to both occupants in the kitchen, presenting them with the blue sticky note with the numbers "86" written in delicate, feminine handwriting. "And why does it have 86 written on it?"
Sabrina had a big smile on her face that screamed 'I know what it means' but her attention was at the spaghetti that was cooking in the shining silver pot and not Amanda. Salem turned his emerald cat eyes from the paper to Amanda.
"Geh? A note? Maybe it's from a secret admirer of yours," Salem joked, "Or an assassin hired by those people that you turned into dolls." Amanda gave a sneering and exasperated glower at the cat that indifferently bushed it off; sharing residence with this brat made him occasionally immune to the glares and anger of Amanda. He returned to his newspaper, laughing softly at the Sunday comics that have been reprinted since the early 60s. Amanda didn't enjoy the tease nor the rebuff of her burning question. She glared at Sabrina for a more answering response.
"SABRINA!" she screeched her named as if Sabrina had suddenly became deaf, "I want an answer NOW!" She stomped her foot and created a mini earthquake that rumbled though the kitchen. Thanks Witchright Hall for all your lovely hard work with Amanda, it really does show!
The room violently shook. The kitchen table broke in half, chairs topple over, the framed pictures adoring the wall fell down and the glass frames shattered.
Luckily, the disorder caused by the childish temper tantrum hadn't stayed long thanks to a simple clean up spell from Sabrina.
"Amanda is no sleeping beauty when she wakes up after nine," chatted Sabrina, pointing and waving her fingers to the ceiling; the brat rolled her eyes at the use of her name in the spell, "So clean up this place until even the curtains shine." With a stream of Sabrina's red-orange magic, everything was back into proper order like the way it was before the brat woke from her slumber.
Amanda commented scornfully, "That was a lame rhyme."
"Ohohoh why," sobbed Salem whose claws were dug into the marble of the island and all the sections of his newspaper were distributed all over on the floor in a mess, "Next time ya want an answer you coulda asked Jeeves." Sabrina smiled good-naturedly at Salem and began to stroke his back while the moans slowly disappeared from audibility.
How strange! It didn't seem that Sabrina wasn't so shaken up from the temper tantrum that caused the 5.2 quake in the kitchen. In fact, it appears that she didn't care at like in an aloof state when she told Amanda:
"Go sit down Amanda, it's time for dinner." To Salem, that sounded more motherly than how a girlfriend should talk to her lover. Maybe that's because Sabrina matured since she received her magic at the tender age of sixteen. Or perhaps that it's pretty much required to be mature when Amanda is visiting unless you want to slaughter her from her cocky attitude and spoiled behavior. But add that on that with the knowledge that Amanda Wiccan is your girlfriend? Bless your soul, Sabrina Spellman.
Amanda obeyed and sat down on the wooden chair at the table that was destroyed only a few moments ago. She rested her head on her hand while she observed Sabrina prepare her dish. Sabrina retrieved the warm garlic bread out of the toaster oven, spooned out spaghetti noodles out of the pot and into a black bowl. She poured meat sauce and some meatballs on top of the noodles and placed two pieces of garlic bread on the side to complete the platter. Sabrina repeated the steps for her and Salem's dinner.
Sabrina placed the bowl on the table, creating a soft clicking sound when it made contact. She grinned sweetly at the brat who looked down shyly and blushed. It felt genuinely weird at the form of emotions she was feeling and the actions she was performing. Shyness, obeying, blushing. When the hell does Amanda ever do any of those listed? Certainly never the middle one (which is clearly noted in many strongly worded letters sent to the Witches Counsel).
The brunette hadn't had those experiences of passion before the start of the romantic relationship of Sabrina and herself. Turns out the Spellmans have an extensive history of cousins dating one another. ("Sort of like rednecks but way more civilized and the kids don't have depilating diseases," Aunt Hilda said.)
Salem was unobtrusively chowing down on his dinner yet he couldn't help but smile as Sabrina did; he omnisciently knew what was going to unfold in only a few minutes.
Amanda noticed the grin on Salem's face and silently stared up at Sabrina questionably until she saw that Sabrina still had her smile on her face too. This smile though wasn't that treacly smile but a quite different one. This rose a bubbling in anger in Amanda; what the hell did they know? It's common knowledge that Amanda must be in the loop of every affair at all times. And there is an extremely strong emphasis on she needs to be. There is a story involving the characters of the Mailman and the neighbors, the Jacobs, with the conflict involving more infernos (it's very popular this season) but that's another story for another time.
"SABRINA!" Amanda shouted across to her older cousin—breaking the silence that was as quickly gone as it was established. The alert of Amanda's voice made Salem claw into the island and fiercely bite the bowl so that in doesn't fall in case another little temper earthquake wants say hello again. He muffled about something about San Francisco and getting an earthquake resistance house.
"What are you guys all smiling about?"
Sabrina had her fork in between her thumb and her index fingers that had a few saucy spaghetti noodles twirled around the metal tines. This indicated that she was about to enjoy her meal until the brat called. She serenely rested the fork on her plate and gazed back at Amanda with that same smile on her face. Amanda's face flared up slightly at the gaze of those cerulean eyes but still maintained her anger.
"What do you think it means Amanda?" Sabrina questioned with a healthy tinge of playfulness residing in her tone.
"How the hell should I know?" automatically snapped the brunette. Sabrina stared with a quite a bit of interest in her cousin then shrugged and returned to her meal. Amanda felt her jaw slacken with a bit of—what is this, embarrassment?—at the effortless and rapid retort to the blonde. She didn't mean to but old habits sure die pretty hard.
Without a satisfying answer from her cousin, Amanda decided to ponder the age old question of what it all means by glowering into spaghetti and garlic bread.
'Let's see... spaghetti and garlic bread... nothing really interesting there. So Sabrina made it for dinner and I only like how she makes it. When she makes it, it becomes my favorite meal. Whatever, big deal,' Amanda glanced back up at Sabrina who was nibbling on her garlic bread, the crumbs falling on to her red turtle neck shirt. It didn't really affect the blonde, simply brushing it off and returning to her meal but not without catching a glimpse of her young cousin.
Amanda bit her lip and then sighed noisily in frustration. 'I feel like I'm on damn Jeopardy,' thought she bitterly. 'Can she or the cat just tell me? Dammit.'
The younger witch's eyes drifted to the blue sticky note on the table, untouched since it was sat down there. It was the reason why Amanda came downstairs when she had discovered on the bathroom mirror morning after she had taken a hot shower. 'Hey, I almost forgot about that!' It still had the number "86" on it in Sabrina's girly penmanship.
'What's this post-it note mean? Does it have thing with the dinner or something and about those purely stupid smiles?' She piped her head to see if they really still I had those freakin' idiotic grins plastered on their faces.
They still did and it looked like they got wider and even gayer (if that was even possible).
Amanda scrunched up her face, 'I wonder if their faces hurt by now,' she sighed again, 'Oh well.' Picking up the note, she shook it to watch if any magic would shake off it. When there was no multiple colored sparks or pings emitting from it, she brought the note to her face and examined it. 'I just want to know what all the hell this adds up to. Okay, well it's a number so maybe it would be something about a d—' The young witch's deliberating was cut short when the older witch placidly and politely instructed her to finish her food.
"I'm not all that hungry," mumbled Amanda, pushing the plate away slightly. She actually was ravenous but all this thinking made her appetite suppressed. Who knew cogitating can extinguish your appetite?
"You need to eat it; I cooked it just for you and I don't always just make this, you know. Only on special days I make it." Sabrina explained, standing up and removing her soiled plate and used silverware. Though Amanda's plate was there and was silently urge to be taken away; Sabrina did not confiscate it to clean it.
"It's Thursday," pointed out Amanda, "Plus today's not special—"
That's when logic and memories hit her hard like a fast ball to the stomach. That's right! Today was the anniversary! (Well kinda) Today marked the date of both girls coming together for a relationship because of the incident with the spilt coffee; the dress; and an almost fried Salem. August 6th which put in only digits would become 86!
Sabrina gently kissing Amanda to calm the brat down and the moment when Amanda turned around to continue kissing her made the young witch feel a comforting warm sensation at the recollection. Amanda felt herself beaming uncontrollably. She brought her eyes to her girlfriend who was washing the dishes and silverware that had just been used.
Amanda slowly crept out of her seat and headed towards Sabrina—soundless and sly though Salem was observing the brat with his green feline eyes and could tip off Sabrina about Amanda. When she reached the unaware blonde, the brunette had the body language like of that like a cat to pounce on a mouse.
"Sabrina, happy anniversary," she murmured gleefully and wrapped her arms around Sabrina's waist; smashing her face against the older witch's back. "I love you." Sabrina could feel Amanda's beaming on her back that caused the blonde to grin as well.
"Happy anniversary, Mandy," said Sabrina sweetly. Sabrina was the only one that was allowed to call the brat the diminutive form of her given name without being place into a jar or becoming a small wood land creature. ""I love you too.""
"I hate to be the one to break up your love fest," said Salem who had moved from the island to the table that Amanda and Sabrina both abandoned, "but are you gonna eat your dinner?" He licked his lips but waited for a response from Amanda with a rare bit of patience he had concerning food. He honestly didn't know what kind of attitude the brat would have right now and rather not risk being turned into a stuff animal.
Amanda removed her face from her girlfriend's back, turning to the cat and with full love coating her eyes and voice: "Sure Salem, you can have it. I'll eat later." It turns out love is a good appetite suppressant as well.
"Great!" was the only word that was uttered from the black cat before he dug his mouth into the saucy meal. The sight of watching Salem devour his meal so sloppily placed a disgusted expression on both girls' faces as they observed him.
"Sabrina," he said through a mouthful of bread and a large meatball, "you really make the best spaghetti and garlic bread." After giving his compliment to the chef, he returned to greedily consuming his second helping without care of the spectacle he was while eating.