The Reed Legacy | By : ShiniMacCloud Category: +. to F > Card Captor Sakura Views: 3020 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer-I
own Millicent, that’s all
A/N-Wow,
this story is really just writing itself.
Thanks for all the support for this fic. It’s going to take at least 2 more chapters to get more into things
that will seem more familiar, card creation and Clow weirdness. I’m looking at Chapter 6 or 7 pausing in the
past reflection and having the CCS crew asking a few questions. So for those that aren’t happy with the lack
of CCS pairings. And for the people
that e-mailed and asked if Millicent was a shameless self insertion, nope, not
in the least. I think characters are
better when they’re modeled after someone else; in this case Millicent is
modeled after my best friend.
The next
few weeks saw a drastic change in the Reed household. Rousing arguments and joyous laughter rang through the halls, as
Millicent became part of the daily life.
With so
many years spent by himself, Clow had forgotten the trouble of having a woman
around the house.
Millicent
cleaned, everything. The destruction
that was the inner sanctum of his workroom was now tidy and sparkling. Ideas that had formerly been on scraps of
paper were now meticulously copied into a notebook. It was a wonder it had made any sense to Millicent, when Clow
could barely read his hasty scrawl.
Everything
that had a place was in it, and if it didn’t have a place or one couldn’t be
found or used, it was discarded.
The house
in all had never been so clean, and with the rearrangement of various items,
Clow became lost on more than one occasion.
This more often than not resulted in a long and loud argument, which
Millicent won.
On the
other hand, Millicent was a godsend in the kitchen. Clow employed a local elderly village woman, the wife of his
gardener, to cook for him, at a rather hefty monthly salary, because the man
himself couldn’t cook. For all the
mystical powers at his command, he scorched pots of boiling water, blew up
eggs, and burned things beyond recognition let alone consumption.
Mrs.
O’Leary was downhearted when Millicent informed her that she would be relieved
of her cooking duties. For all Clow’s
bluster and temper, he really was a sweet man, and she genuinely liked him,
often treating him more like a son than an employer. Her sadness was short lived, because moments later Millicent
informed her that her salary would continued to be paid in full with a bonus
for having to put up with years of Clow’s rather unique temperament, with the
stipulation that thedensdens would continue to be cared for.
The
matronly woman chuckled as she watched the vibrant woman take Clow to task for
not only being cheap, but being difficult.
All the man
could do was nod and agree.
Mrs.
O’Leary cheerfully informed the village that Clow was like any other man, and
could be taken down a few pegs by his ladylove.
Clow whined
for days after he heard that. “I wanted
them to fear me. This just takes all
the fun out of being one of the most powerful magician’s in the world.”
“Yes
dear.” Was the reply.
One wintry
evening, while Clow sat in his favorite red velvet chair, Millicent beside him
on the divan before the fire, the fiery haired girl brought a painfully touchy
subject.
“Clow, I’ve
arranged for us to go to London. I
think you should go to see your mother’s grave, to pay your respects.”
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