Traveler: Chapter 32

Sylvia stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk, causing Felicia to nearly collide with her back.

"What's with the sudden halt?" Felicia asked, stepping to the side. "Found something interesting?"

Sylvia turned to face both women, a mischievous glint in her eyes that hadn't been there moments before. "If we're going out, we can't go like this."

Wanda looked down at her outfit—casual jeans and a deep red sweater—then back at Sylvia with raised eyebrows. "What's wrong with how we look?"

"Nothing's wrong," Sylvia replied, a smirk playing at her lips. "But if we're having a night out, we might as well look the part."

Felicia's face lit up with understanding. "Oh, I like where this is going. Please tell me you're about to do something magical and fabulous."

"Stand still," Sylvia instructed, her fingers already starting to glow with a faint green light.

Wanda hesitated. "Sylvia, we're in public."

"And?" Sylvia quirked an eyebrow. "Since when has that ever stopped me?"

Before she could protest further, Sylvia flicked her wrists, sending tendrils of emerald magic swirling around all three of them. The light enveloped them briefly, and when it faded, their appearances had transformed completely.

Felicia gasped in delight as she examined her new outfit. She was now wearing a sleek silver dress that hugged her curves perfectly, with a plunging neckline and a hemline that left little to the imagination. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and her makeup was subtly enhanced to highlight her alluring features.

"Now this is what I'm talking about!" Felicia exclaimed, twirling around to get the full effect. "You've outdone yourself, Syl."

Wanda was wearing a deep crimson dress that flowed elegantly to just above her knees, with delicate lace sleeves that exposed just enough skin to be enticing without being overtly revealing. Her auburn hair was styled in soft curls, and her eyes were accentuated with smoky makeup that made them appear even more intense.

"It's beautiful," Wanda admitted, touching the fabric with appreciation. "Thank you."

Sylvia herself had opted for a dark green dress that shimmered slightly when she moved, as if tiny emeralds had been woven into the fabric. It was form-fitting but sophisticated, with a high neckline in the front that contrasted with a dramatically low back. Her dark hair was swept up into an elegant updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck.

"There," Sylvia said with satisfaction. "Now we're ready to go out."

"But where exactly are we going?" Wanda asked, still taking in her transformed appearance.

Felicia gestured broadly down the street. "I know the perfect place. It's not far from here—classy enough to justify these outfits but with drinks strong enough to make us forget our problems. What do you say?"

Sylvia nodded approvingly. "Lead the way."

As they walked toward their destination, Sylvia couldn't help but notice the looks they were getting. It wasn't often that three women dressed like they were headed to a red-carpet event simply strolled down a New York street in the evening. But rather than feeling self-conscious, Sylvia found herself enjoying the attention. It had been a long time since she'd done something purely for the enjoyment of it, without an ulterior motive or a scheme lurking in the background.

"Here we are," Felicia announced as they approached a sleek building with a discreet sign that read "Obsidian." "Best kept secret in the area. Trust me, the drinks are to die for."

The interior of Obsidian was exactly what its name suggested—dark and glossy, with accents of deep purple and midnight blue. The lighting was low but not dim, creating an atmosphere that was intimate without being excessively romantic. A bar stretched along one wall, staffed by bartenders in crisp black shirts who moved with practiced efficiency. The rest of the space was filled with comfortable seating arrangements—plush booths and small tables designed for conversation rather than dining.

"How do you know about this place?" Wanda asked as they were led to a booth in a quiet corner.

Felicia winked. "Let's just say I've had some interesting encounters here."

"By 'interesting,' she means she's probably robbed half the patrons," Sylvia remarked dryly.

Felicia placed a hand on her chest in mock offense. "I would never! At least, not all of them." She grinned wickedly. "Only the ones who deserved it."

Wanda chuckled softly as they settled into their booth. "I assume that means the wealthy and morally questionable."

"The very same," Felicia confirmed. "But tonight isn't about my questionable career choices. Tonight is about drinks, gossip, and absolutely no talk of brothers, vengeance, or cosmic threats."

A server approached their table, and Felicia ordered a bottle of expensive champagne before either of her companions could weigh in.

"We're celebrating," she explained to the server, who nodded politely and disappeared to fulfill the order.

"And what exactly are we celebrating?" Sylvia asked with amusement.

Felicia's expression turned unexpectedly serious. "Survival. Connection. The fact that against all odds, the three of us are sitting here, alive and mostly sane, despite everything that's happened."

Wanda’s lips curved into  a gentle and understanding smile. "I'll drink to that."

When the champagne arrived, Felicia raised her glass. "To women who've been through hell and look damn good doing it."

"To unlikely friendships," Wanda added, lifting her own glass.

Sylvia hesitated only briefly before joining the toast. "To making it through everything and coming out even better."

The glasses clinked together, and for a moment, the three women simply enjoyed the companionable silence as they sipped their drinks. The champagne was excellent—crisp and refreshing with just the right amount of sweetness.

"So," Felicia said after a while, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, or should I be the one to bring it up?"

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "What elephant?"

"Let me rectify, I should say, the wizard in the room?" Felicia's grin widened. "Or more accurately, the wizard who's been in both mine and Syl’s beds, and from the bond you share, soon in your bed as well, Wanda."

Wanda nearly choked on her champagne. "Felicia!"

"What?" Felicia asked innocently. "It's true. Harry has been quite... attentive to both of us, hasn't he, Syl?"

Wanda blushed slightly, the color rising to her cheeks making her look even more enchanting in the low light. "I don't think this is an appropriate topic for—"

"Oh, come on," Felicia interrupted. "If we can't talk about our shared interest in our magical boy toy during girls' night, when can we?"

"He's not a 'boy toy,'" Sylvia said firmly, though her lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

"Fine, fine," Felicia conceded with a dramatic sigh. "Our shared magical gentleman, then. Better?"

Despite herself, Sylvia laughed. There was something refreshing about Felicia's bluntness, especially after the emotional pressure of their earlier conversation. "Marginally."

"I'm just saying," Felicia continued, leaning forward conspiratorially, "it's not every day that three women can sit around and discuss the same man without wanting to claw each other's eyes out. That's worth celebrating too."

Wanda took a careful sip of her champagne. "It's... unusual, certainly."

"It's more than unusual," Sylvia commented. "Before all this, I would've scoffed at the idea of sharing anyone, let alone a man." She paused, reflecting on her own words. "Actually, I would've scoffed at the idea of being with anyone at all."

Felicia raised her eyebrows. "Really? No one caught the eye of the mighty Sylvia before Harry came along?"

"None that were worth my time," Sylvia replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Most men are disappointingly predictable. And the women weren't much better."

"But Harry is different?" Wanda asked, her voice gentle but curious.

Sylvia considered the question, swirling the champagne in her glass thoughtfully. "He sees me," she finally said. "Not just what I show the world or what I want people to see. He sees... everything. And he doesn't flinch away from it."

"That's the bond," Wanda said with understanding. "It's what connects all of us now. We've seen each other at our most vulnerable, our most raw."

"And surprisingly, we didn't run screaming for the hills," Felicia added with a laugh. "Though I still can't believe that Banner wasn't included in this whole mystical kumbaya circle. Talk about awkward."

"Banner's exclusion wasn't random," Sylvia said, her brow furrowing slightly. "Harry's magic... it chose who to connect. Why it left Banner out, I don't know. But it was intentional."

Wanda nodded slowly. "Magic often has its own logic, its own way of seeing the world. Perhaps the connection wasn't meant for him."

"Or perhaps Harry's magic recognized that big, green, and angry wasn't the best candidate for an intimate psychic link," Felicia suggested with a smirk. "Can you imagine having the Hulk in your head during sex? Talk about a mood killer."

Sylvia snorted inelegantly, and even Wanda couldn't suppress a giggle. The champagne was beginning to take effect, loosening their inhibitions and lightening the mood considerably.

"I have to admit," Sylvia said after their laughter subsided, "this is not how I expected the evening to go."

"What, you didn't expect to be sitting in a fancy bar, dressed to kill, discussing your magical lover with two other women?" Felicia teased. "Shocking."

"No," Sylvia replied, a note of genuine surprise in her voice. "I didn't expect to be enjoying myself. To be... comfortable." She glanced between Wanda and Felicia. "With you two."

Wanda smiled warmly. "The bond works both ways. We've seen you, but you've also seen us. There's a certain freedom in that kind of transparency."

"It's also why I'm not bothered by the whole sharing thing," Sylvia added, refilling their glasses. "I mean, normally I'd be all 'hands off my man,' but with this... it's different. It's like we're all part of the same circuit, you know?"

Sylvia nodded slowly. "I never thought I'd say this, but I understand what you mean. It's not just about sharing Harry; it's about sharing... everything. The connection, the experience."

"And the orgasms," Felicia added with a wink. "Let's not forget those."

"Felicia!" Wanda exclaimed, her face flushing deeper.

"What? They're spectacular! Especially when he does that thing with his—"

"We know what he does," Sylvia interrupted hastily, though she couldn't quite hide her own blush. "We've both experienced it."

"See? That's my point," Felicia said triumphantly. "We've both shared in it. And somehow, that makes it better, not worse. Natasha, Maria, Helen, probably Lizzie too. It's not competition; it's... communion."

Wanda considered this, her expression thoughtful. "I wouldn't have chosen that word, but... yes. It's about connection, about being part of something larger than ourselves."

"And about really, really good sex," Felicia added, raising her glass. “You’ll see soon.”

Wanda pointedly sipped her champagne as Sylvia laughed, genuinely and without reservation. It felt good, this camaraderie, this shared understanding. It was so different from anything she'd experienced before—so far removed from the isolation and scheming that had defined much of her existence.

"To communion, then," Sylvia said, raising her own glass. "And to really, really good sex."

"I'll drink to that," Felicia agreed with a smile, joining the toast with Wanda.

As they clinked glasses again, Sylvia suddenly stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she turned her head sharply toward the bar.

"Sylvia?" Wanda asked, concern evident in her voice. "What's wrong?"

Sylvia didn't answer immediately. She was focused intently on something—or someone—at the bar. "I feel something."

Felicia followed her gaze. "What? What do you feel?"

"Magic," Sylvia replied, her voice low. "Harry's magic. It's faint, but it's there."

"Harry's here?" Wanda asked, looking around.

"No," Sylvia shook her head. "Not Harry himself. But his energy... it's coming from..." She nodded toward a specific spot at the bar. "That woman."

XXXXX

Darcy Lewis was bored. Not just the usual, everyday kind of bored, but the special kind of boredom that comes from listening to someone talk about something you have absolutely no interest in while simultaneously trying to scan a crowded bar for someone who probably isn't even there.

"...and the readings were completely off the charts," Jane was saying, gesturing animatedly with her half-empty cocktail. "I mean, the implications for quantum field theory alone are staggering, not to mention what this could mean for our understanding of interdimensional travel."

"Mm-hmm," Darcy nodded, taking a sip of her cosmopolitan while her eyes continued to survey the room. "Totally staggering."

Jane paused, giving Darcy a knowing look. "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

Darcy had the decency to look mildly ashamed. "No, I totally have! Quantum... fields... staggering implications. See? I was listening."

"Uh-huh," Jane replied skeptically. "And what have you been looking for the last twenty minutes? Because it's definitely not in your drink."

Darcy sighed, finally turning her full attention to her friend. "Sorry. I'm just... distracted."

"Clearly," Jane said dryly. "Is this about why you insisted we come to this specific bar tonight? Because if you wanted to come here, you could have just said so instead of making up that story about them having the best cosmos in town."

"They do have the best cosmos," Darcy defended, taking another sip as if to prove her point. "And I didn't insist. I merely... strongly suggested."

"Right," Jane nodded, clearly unconvinced. "And this has nothing to do with that weird act you pulled the last time we were here? When you ditched that date and still came back looking like you'd either just had the best sex of your life or been electrocuted?"

Darcy choked on her drink, sputtering inelegantly. "I told you, I ditched him when I ran into an old friend!"

"An old friend who left you with a hickey the size of Texas?" Jane raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Darcy. We've been friends for years. You can tell me if you had a one-night stand in the bathroom."

Darcy's mouth fell open. "How did you—"

"Oh my God, you actually did?" Jane looked equal parts impressed and scandalized. "I was kidding! I thought maybe you'd made out with someone in a dark corner, not that you'd actually... wow."

Darcy groaned, burying her face in her hands. "It wasn't planned. It just... happened."

"Things like that don't 'just happen,' Darcy," Jane said, leaning forward with newfound interest. "Who was he? Or she? I don't judge."

"He," Darcy confirmed, her cheeks flushing with the memory. "And he was... God, Jane, he was amazing."

Even as she said it, her mind drifted back to that evening, to the encounter that had been seared into her memory with such vivid detail that it sometimes felt more like a fantasy than something that had actually happened.

She'd been with that dumbass, looking for an opportunity to be alone while he kept droning on about something she couldn’t be arsed about. The man had appeared in front of her as if out of nowhere, with messy dark hair and the most intense eyes she'd ever seen. Merely looking into those intense eyes had made her come undone then and there, but the subtle glances exchanged and the conversation that had taken place between them without any actual words had been no less thrilling.

When he gestured towards the bathroom, she had felt equal parts nervous and excited, and with an attitude of ‘fuck it’, she’d ditched that useless date of hers and followed after him.

They'd ended up in the restroom—the men’s room that should usually be teeming with people but had mysteriously been available. The door had barely closed behind them before she'd had him pressed against the sink, their mouths hot and demanding against each other.

Darcy shifted uncomfortably on her bar stool as the memory played out in vivid detail. The way his hands had seemed to be everywhere at once, tugging at her clothes, caressing her skin. She recalled how hot and aroused she had been in his presence as she stroked his cock, and in no time, she’d been squatting in front of him, taking him deep into her throat as she blew him off.

She still remembered his grunts and groans as she deepthroated him, talking dirty, and how eager they’d both seemed to fuck each other.

It’d been so hot the way he'd bent her over the sink counter, pushing her skirt up over her ass and around her waist, pushing her knickers to the side to free up her glistening wet pussy with such confidence it’d made her grin widen.

"Darcy?" Jane's voice broke through her reverie. "You still with me?"

"Sorry," Darcy mumbled, taking a large gulp of her drink. "Just... remembering."

"Must have been some guy," Jane remarked with a knowing smile. "So? What was his name? Are you going to see him again? Is that why we're here?"

Darcy hesitated. She hadn't told Jane the full story—partly because she wasn't sure Jane would believe her, and partly because she wasn't entirely sure she believed it herself. Because the man, Harry, hadn't just been incredibly skilled at sex. There had been something else about him, something... otherworldly.

"His name is Harry," she finally said, opting for at least partial honesty. "And I don't know if I'll see him again. That's kind of why I wanted to come back here."

In truth, their encounter had been so intense, so unexpected, that she'd been craving a repeat performance ever since. The way he'd whispered in her ear, calling her name in that accent that made her knees weak. The way he'd seemed to know exactly how to touch her, where to touch her, how to make her fall apart under his hands and mouth.

She remembered how, after he’d fucked her from behind and then from the front, he’d fucked her tits. She recalled how lewd she’d felt when she had been eating his cum off her body, and once they'd both caught their breath, he'd straightened her clothes with tender care, fixed her hair, and then, with a mischievous smile, had kissed her one last time before disappearing as suddenly as he'd arrived.

"Earth to Darcy," Jane waved a hand in front of her face. "You're doing it again."

Darcy blinked, forcing herself back to the present. "Sorry. He was just... really good."

"Clearly," Jane said with a laugh. "But you don't even know if he'll be here tonight. And even if he is, do you really want to hook up with a stranger in a bathroom again?"

Yes, a voice in Darcy's head answered emphatically. God, yes.

Out loud, she merely shrugged. "I'm just keeping my options open."

"Well, while you're keeping your options open, can we at least finish our drinks and then maybe find a table? My feet are killing me."

"Sure," Darcy agreed, turning to signal the bartender for another round.

As she did, she felt a strange sensation, almost like a tingle at the back of her neck. It was the same feeling she'd had right before Harry had appeared in front of her that night—a mixture of anticipation and something else, something she couldn't quite identify.

She turned again, scanning the bar with renewed interest, and that's when she saw them. Three women, all impossibly beautiful in different ways, occupying a booth in the corner and looking directly at her. The dark-haired one in green was staring with particular intensity, her gaze so focused that Darcy felt exposed under it.

"Jane," she said, nudging her friend, "do you see those women over there? The ones who look like they stepped out of a fashion magazine?"

Jane followed her gaze. "Yeah, I see them. Why?"

"They're staring at us."

"Are you sure?" Jane squinted. "Maybe they're just looking in this general direction."

"No," Darcy said firmly. "They're definitely looking at us. And now they're... Oh God, they're coming over."

Sure enough, the three women had risen from their booth and were making their way toward the bar, moving with a grace that seemed almost choreographed. The blonde one led the way, a confident smirk playing on her lips, while the other two followed with varying degrees of curiosity and caution.

"Hello, ladies," the blonde one said as they approached, her tone friendly but with an undercurrent of something else, almost predatory. "Mind if we join you?"

XXXXX

Felicia didn't wait for an answer before sliding onto the empty bar stool next to Darcy, her smile wide and inviting. "I'm Felicia. These are my friends, Wanda and Sylvia."

Darcy blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. "Uh, hi. I'm Darcy, and this is Jane."

Jane offered a polite smile, though her eyes were questioning. "Nice to meet you. Can we help you with something?"

"Actually," Felicia continued, her gaze fixed on Darcy, "we noticed you from across the room and thought you looked familiar." Her eyes flickered briefly to Sylvia, who was still watching Darcy with that intense, analytical stare. "Don't you think she looks familiar, Syl?"

Sylvia stepped forward, her movements fluid and effortlessly sexy. "Very familiar," she agreed, her voice smooth as silk. "We have a mutual friend, I believe."

Darcy's brow furrowed. "We do?"

"Harry," Sylvia said simply, watching as recognition flashed across Darcy's face. "I thought so. I can feel his… essence on you."

"His what?" Darcy asked, glancing uncertainly between the three women.

"His essence," Sylvia repeated. "It's faint, but it's there. A signature, of sorts."

Wanda moved closer, her expression curious. "You can really feel it? Even now?"

Sylvia nodded. "It lingers. Especially after particularly... intimate encounters."

Darcy's cheeks flushed crimson. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on," Felicia said with a laugh. "We're all friends here. Or at least, we share a common interest." She winked conspiratorially. "And what an interest he is."

"I'm sorry," Jane interrupted, looking increasingly confused. "What exactly is going on here? Who's Harry?"

"A wizard," Wanda supplied helpfully. "And a very powerful one at that."

"A wizard," Jane repeated flatly. "Like, with a wand and spells and stuff?"

"Actually, he doesn't use a wand," Felicia corrected. "But the spells part is accurate. And he's very, very good with his hands."

Darcy choked on air, her eyes widening. "You've all... been with Harry?"

"Been with him? Yes. Well, except dear Wanda here, but that’d change soon," Felicia confirmed without hesitation, smirking when Wanda averted her gaze once again. That one was bashful, alright. "And let me tell you, the man knows what he's doing."

"Felicia," Wanda admonished gently. "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves properly before discussing... that."

"Fine, fine," Felicia conceded. "Though I don't see why we need to beat around the bush when we're all clearly part of the same exclusive club."

"What club?" Jane asked, her confusion mounting.

“Let’s call it the 'I've-slept-with-a-magical-being-with-enchanting-eyes-and-amazing-hands-and-an-even-more-amazing-cock' club," Felicia replied matter-of-factly.

"A surprisingly large club, let me tell you that," Sylvia added dryly.

"Okay, hold on," Darcy held up her hands. "You're telling me that all three of you have... been with Harry? The same Harry who..." She trailed off, glancing at Jane. "You know."

"The same one," Sylvia confirmed. "And yes, both Felicia and I have been intimate with him. As have several others."

"Others?" Darcy's voice rose slightly. "How many others?"

"Natasha, Maria, Helen," Felicia counted off on her fingers. "Wanda here, as I told you. Oh, Betty will be joining soon, I'm pretty sure. And now, it seems, you."

"I'm not—we only—it was just once," Darcy stammered.

"That's how it starts," Felicia said with a knowing smile. "Trust me, once you've had a taste, you'll want more."

Darcy shut up. She did want more. Had been wanting more since that night.

"I don't understand," Jane interjected, looking between all of them. "Are you saying this Harry person is some kind of... magical playboy?" After everything she’d seen in the past year or so, nothing would surprise her anymore.

"No," Wanda said firmly. "It's more complicated than that."

"It's a bond," Sylvia explained, her expression serious. "A connection. Harry's magic has linked us all in ways that go beyond the physical."

"Though the physical part is pretty spectacular," Felicia added.

"A magical bond," Jane repeated, her scientist's mind clearly trying to process this information. "So it's not just sex; it's some kind of... supernatural polyamory?"

"That's actually not a bad way to put it," Felicia nodded approvingly. "I like her, Darcy. She catches on quick."

"This is insane," Darcy muttered, reaching for her drink. "Next you'll be telling me you're all superheroes or something."

A brief, loaded silence followed her words.

"Wait," Darcy's eyes widened. "Are you?"

"Not exactly," Wanda said carefully. "Though we do have... abilities."

"Like what?" Jane asked, her scientific curiosity overriding her skepticism.

"I can manipulate reality," Wanda said simply. "Felicia has enhanced physical abilities. And Sylvia is..." She glanced at Sylvia, as if unsure how much to reveal.

"I'm Thor’s sister," Sylvia stated calmly, watching their reactions, and Jane in particular.

Jane's glass slipped from her hand, the contents spilling across the bar. "You're what?"

Darcy stared at Sylvia in disbelief. "Thor’s sister? As in, the one who sent that metal monster thing to New Mexico? That sister?"

"The very same," Sylvia confirmed, her expression remaining neutral.

"You tried to kill Thor," Darcy accused, her demeanor shifting from confusion to hostility. "And Erik! You messed with Erik's head!"

"I did many things," Sylvia acknowledged, a hint of tension creeping into her voice. "Some of which I regret, some of which I do not."

"How can you just stand there and act like it's no big deal?" Darcy demanded. "You're a villain!"

"Darcy," Jane said suddenly, placing a hand on her friend's arm. "Wait."

"Wait?" Darcy turned to Jane incredulously. "Do you not remember what happened in New Mexico? What this person did?"

Jane's expression was unexpectedly somber. "I remember. But there's more to it than that. Thor told me... about what happened to his sister. About what Odin did. And he didn’t."

Darcy's anger faltered at the unexpected response. "What? What are you talking about?"

Jane took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Sylvia's with a mixture of caution and compassion. "Thor told me everything. About how you found out you were adopted. About your true parentage. About how Odin had been lying to you your entire life. And… what’s been happening to you in Asgard that pushed you to becoming what you did."

Sylvia's composure slipped slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. "He told you that?"

"He did," Jane confirmed quietly. "He said it was one of his greatest regrets, that he wasn't there for you when you needed him. That he didn't see what was happening right in front of him."

"Well, that makes two of us," Sylvia replied, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "Though his regret is rather late in coming."

"He'd been trying to find you," Jane continued. "Ever since he learned you were alive. He'd been searching the Nine Realms for you."

"And yet he couldn't find me right under his nose," Sylvia said with a bitter laugh. "Typical."

Jane gazed at her steadily. "He really regrets everything and he wants to make amends. He knows he can't change the past, but he wants to try to build something new."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sylvia asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her tone despite her best efforts to conceal it.

"Because I care about Thor," Jane answered honestly. "And because he cares about you. And because everyone deserves a second chance, even if it's a chance to just walk away cleanly."

Darcy looked between them, her earlier hostility giving way to confusion. "I don't understand. Are you defending... her?"

"I'm acknowledging that people are complex," Jane replied, turning to Darcy. "And that sometimes, the people we think we know aren't who we think they are. For better or worse."

"But they sentient metal monster in New Mexico! That's not really a grey area!"

"Actually," Felicia interjected, having been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, "if we're going to start holding everyone accountable for all the damage they've caused, we're going to need a much longer night and a lot more alcohol."

"She's right," Wanda agreed quietly.

A heavy silence fell over the group, the ambient noise of the bar continuing around them, oblivious to the tension that had settled over their corner.

"Well," Felicia finally said, clapping her hands together, "this got serious fast. Which is exactly what we said we wouldn't do tonight." She turned to Darcy and Jane. "Look, we didn't come over here to start a confrontation. We came over because Sylvia sensed Harry's magic, and we were curious. That's all."

"And because Felicia has no concept of privacy or boundaries," Sylvia added, some of her composure returning.

"Hey, I was a cat burglar. Invading other people's space was literally my job description," Felicia defended with a grin.

"A cat burglar," Darcy repeated, bewildered. "Of course you are."

“I was,” Felicia corrected with a grin. “No longer.”

"The point is," Wanda continued, getting the conversation back on track, "we didn't mean to upset either of you. Perhaps it would be best if we returned to our table."

"No," Jane said suddenly, surprising everyone. "Stay. Please."

"Jane?" Darcy looked at her friend in confusion.

"Thor talks about you all the time," Jane said, addressing Sylvia directly. "About your childhood together, about the adventures you had. The good times, before... everything else. He misses you."

Sylvia's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "He always was sentimental."

"It's not just sentiment," Jane insisted. "It's love. He loves you. Despite everything, you're still his sister in his eyes."

"I was never truly his sister," Sylvia replied, but there was less bite to her words than before.

"Family isn't always about blood," Jane said gently.

"Sometimes it's about who puts up with your shit," Felicia added with a pointed look at Sylvia.

Despite herself, Sylvia's lips curved into a reluctant smile. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"We all would," Wanda said, placing a hand on Sylvia's arm. "That's what we were celebrating tonight, remember? Unlikely connections."

Sylvia nodded slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. She turned to Darcy, her expression carefully neutral. "I apologize for startling you. It wasn't my intention to cause distress."

Darcy eyed her warily. "I'm still not sure how I feel about all this. But..." She glanced at Jane, who gave her an encouraging nod. "I guess if Jane's willing to hear you out, I can too."

"Excellent," Felicia declared, signaling the bartender. "In that case, I think we need more drinks. And possibly a larger table, because this conversation is far from over."

As the bartender approached, Darcy found herself thinking that when she'd hoped to find Harry again tonight, she certainly hadn't expected to encounter his other... partners. But then again, nothing about her life had been particularly normal since New Mexico. Why should tonight be any different?

"So," she said, turning to Felicia with newfound curiosity, "tell me more about this magical bond thing. And maybe about how a cat burglar ends up involved with a wizard."

Felicia's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Now that's a story worth telling. But fair warning—it involves a coma, a ritual, and mind-blowing sex. Not necessarily in that order."

"I think I need another drink first," Darcy decided.

"That," Sylvia agreed, a genuine smile finally gracing her lips, "is something we can all agree on."

As the group moved to a larger table, an odd sort of camaraderie beginning to form among them, Sylvia reflected that the evening had taken a turn she never could have predicted. But then again, very little in her life had gone according to plan lately. And perhaps, just perhaps, that wasn't entirely a bad thing.

To be continued…