Chapter Text
“A kiss can eliminate any trace of the hex,” Bess informed them, though all four had heard Victoria through George’s phone speaker.
“A kiss?” Nancy repeated, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, the purest act of love,” Victoria explained dully.
“Kisses aren’t always pure,” George pointed out. “And no one here is in love. What do we do?”
“That’s not the point. You just need two people willing to share a moment of harmony and bond,” Victoria clarified.
“Harmony and bond?” George repeated mockingly. “Since when are you so poetic?”
Victoria groaned, clearly exasperated. “Why do you think old fairy tales solve their problems with a kiss? It creates white magic strong enough to handle things like this.”
“You mean tales like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White?” Nancy asked, skeptical. “Do we… have to kiss him?”
The group turned to glance at the customer, who was still clucking like a chicken.
“No!” Victoria snapped. “Wasn’t I clear enough?”
“Do we need a prince…?” Bess ventured.
“Great! All we’ve got is a frog,” George quipped, throwing a glance at Ace. He didn’t look offended—in fact, he smirked.
“A willing frog,” Ace added, stepping toward Bess.
“Oh, no!” Bess hurriedly backed away, snatching the bottle from Nancy’s hand. “No, no, no.”
“It’s your mess,” George said, turning to Nancy. Then she gestured to Ace, tilting her head with a get on with it look.
Ace obeyed, moving to stand between Nancy’s legs as she perched on the tall stool. She realized with a jolt that they’d never been this close before. He leaned toward her, his face only inches from hers. This should’ve been easy—it was just a kiss. But the intensity of the moment unsettled her.
Ace suddenly paused, straightening up, a thoughtful look on his face. “How does this work exactly?” he asked into George’s phone. “I mean, how is the magic we’re supposed to create going to fix him?”
Oh, now he has questions? Nancy thought, irritated by the unexpected delay. Was this… bothering her?
Victoria sighed loudly. “Both of you need to hold the hexed object,” she instructed.
Bess obediently handed the bottle back to Nancy, ducking out of the way as something small slipped from the tag and hit the floor.
“Done,” George said when Ace and Nancy both gripped the bottle with one hand.
“Now,” Victoria continued, “think of something you truly like about the other. It has to be meaningful.”
Nancy stared into Ace’s puppy eyes, so warm and searching. She liked his eyes—always had—but was that meaningful enough?
He slid his free arm around her waist, steadying her as if to say, I’m here. It’s okay. The gesture sent a jolt through her. Ace had clearly already decided what he liked about her. Nancy dropped her gaze, not ready for the kiss just yet.
“What now?” George asked, impatient.
“They kiss,” Victoria explained, “showing the other how pleased and grateful they are for the way they made them feel.”
Nancy could feel Ace watching her, waiting patiently for her to be ready. Suddenly, she knew. It wasn’t just his eyes—it was the way he made her feel. Understood. Comfortable in her own skin. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing the soft strands of his hair. Would touching it be too much? she wondered. But before she could decide, her fingers were already tangled in the locks that always looked perfect.
“Wait!” Bess shouted suddenly. “I think this is a riddle! If we solve it, we might break the hex without… you know…” She trailed off, smiling proudly. “Ace, you speak French, right?”
Ace blinked, clearly thrown off by the interruption, but he nodded. Bess handed him a piece of old paper.
“Qu’est-ce qui a un cou mais pas de tête?” he read aloud. “What has a neck but no head?”
“A bottle,” Nancy answered instantly.
Bess’s eyes lit up. “Then maybe…” She grabbed the bottle and poured a small amount of the amber liquid into the customer’s glass.
They all watched in tense silence as the man drank. A moment later, he blinked in confusion, looking around like someone waking from a strange dream.
Ace and Nancy still hadn’t moved apart. He leaned in close again, his voice a low murmur. “My girl was jealous, wasn’t she?” he teased. His words sent a spark through Nancy, but before she could respond, he pulled back, grinning, and walked away.
Nancy stared after him, a knot of undefined emotions tightening in her chest. Disappointment? No. That couldn’t be it. Could it?