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Well, the clear misunderstanding that led to the 'not-so-fun-abduction-witch-people-quest… thing' aside, Sharon could at least say that she got a new group of friends.
If she could call them that.
And from Eastview too! See, that bit was important. She'd never had friends from faraway places like that in a while.
Though the little voice in the back of her head groaned and grumbled, "Eastview isn't that far!" Yet Sharon just shrugged it aside in favor of entertaining her guest.
Right.
Against the granite counter-top Mr. Davis had put in, Agatha slumped in a very 'moody teenager' manner; Foot tapping impatiently, weight shifting from side to side, arms crossed— the whole nine yards.
She even had the unimpressed stare down pat.
"Are you waiting for something?" Sharon asked.
Agatha pursed her lips. "Teen was right," she stood up a little straighter, "Your thoughts are really loud."
Without missing a beat, Sharon moved to the other's side, "Well I should hope so. There's a lot that shouldn't be said out loud." She stated, pointing to a stack of plates nearby. "Now pass me a dish. I'll wash, you dry."
She was met with an exasperated grunt. "Would you rather wash and I'll dry then? Those can't just stay dirty."
"Sure they can." Agatha muttered, but passed a plate either way.
Tense silence followed, only broken by the occasional sweep of the rag and clinking of dishes. Oh, and the disgruntled sigh of Sharon's companion.
"With that attitude, you'd think I'd be the older one." She remarked.
"Yet I have you beat by centuries."
Amusement pulled at Sharon's lips. "Then I should be the one complaining."
"Oh, fuck off." With all the fire of a toddler's tantrum, Agatha dumped the entire mess of silverware into the sink, splashing water over the sides and onto the hardwood.
Sharon paused.
Agatha froze.
Goodness, Sharon could barely hear the woman breathing anymore. Distantly, she recalled some of the school kids she'd worked with in the past: ones that wouldn't look her in the eye, that hid underneath their sweatshirts— even in the heat of summer— fiddling endlessly with their sleeves.
Flighty by nature, some would lock themselves away if anything went awry.
In this moment, Agatha reminded her a lot of them. Sharon felt her gaze soften almost instantly.
And she did what she had to do.
She splashed Agatha with barely contained glee— bubbles and all.
The tension snapped then, withering alongside Agatha's stupor. The witch's eyes, narrowed mischievously, glowed purple.
It was the only warning Sharon got before water drenched her entire being. A laugh bubbled from her chest, her hands already reaching for the sprayer. "That's cheating!"
Agatha gasped in mock offense, "Moi? Never." But she flung more water Sharon's direction anyway. "I'm only using what's within my means." Purple danced around the pair to weave through the space like some strange mosquito, disturbing decor and opening cupboards as it went— even catching the dishrag and flinging it onto the counter with a wet 'SMACK.'
Oh, Sharon could play that game… and Agatha was in enemy territory.
Without further preamble, she turned the sink on and aimed to shoot.
She did not miss.
A chase ensued around the kitchen, much like the old Tom and Jerry cartoons Sharon's grand-babies would watch when they'd spent the night.
Would she be feeling every ache and pain tomorrow?
Certainly.
Was it worth the horrified look on Agatha's face?
Absolutely.
It was only when they were soaked to the bone— clothes dripping, socks slapping against sodden floorboards, did Sharon end the chase; But the laughter didn't stop. Sharon, herself, had hunched over the sink as she fought for breath between giggles… and she didn't even know where Agatha went.
Likely on the floor somewhere, as far as her ears could tell.
"Think you can wiggle your fingers and work your magic on this mess?" Sharon asked.
Agatha popped up from the other side of the table wearing the most earnest smile Sharon had ever seen from her. Even Agnes couldn't compare— those smiles never reached her eyes, but this…
The eyes shown the brightest.
Mission accomplished, and not the only one.
Any trace of water, aside from the clothes on their backs, was gone with a flick of the wrist. Even the remaining dishes had been magicked clean.
Left in its wake stood a very awkward looking, still drenched, Agatha. Her smile had turned into a small grimace, while her hands wrung together— like watching the pieces of a puzzle box get put back into place, ready for the next solving attempt.
Even so, Sharon could have sworn the woman looked a tiny bit younger.
Or maybe that was her old age getting to her.
"Would you like to spend the night?" The words fell from her lips on sheer instinct.
If it was possible for Agatha to look any more out of place, it would have been right then. "I better get going." She murmured, peering at Sharon almost apologetically, before sidestepping in the direction of the door.
Ignoring the pang of disappointment, Sharon nodded. "Let me see you out?"
"Okay."
The walk to the front porch felt more bittersweet at each step, she noticed. There was a time when that would be her and Todd, seeing their daughter off, and years later, their grandchildren; And they'd sit in their rocking chairs in silence long after the car disappeared from view.
Sharon flicked the light on, moving to her chair as Agatha traversed the stairs. "I'll make sure you get home safe." She called to the woman the moment she reached the sidewalk.
Agatha cast a tight lipped grin her way, paired with a quick nod in thanks— boots in hand, still sodden from their little game, and walked down the street.
Sharon watched her friend go, fondness blooming in her chest.
Friend.
Yeah, she'd like to think so.