She wonders at what point her resentful job became a personal quest, something that she wanted to do. She tries to tell herself that the compulsion comes from a sense of duty. Icy cringes as a series of sharp pricks burst all over her body. "You have got to stop making enemies of powerful people."

"It's a hobby." Bloom quips. "I wouldn't have met you if I didn't."

Icy scoffs and turns back to her foe. Seldom does she get to face another ice witch, she is thankful for that. In some way, it is like fighting herself. And maybe, in some way, she is.

And this time it would seem that she is losing the fight.

The woman, Blizzard? Blissa?-Icy can never remember her name-tosses another blast of frigid air at Bloom. She counters it with a wave of heat.

In doing so, she opens herself to the real attack.

It is too late to counter or block the strike. With a sigh, Icy puts herself in its path and she resents herself for having done kind of witch puts her own needs aside for someone else. Someone that she is sworn to hate. The ice spike meets her torso, driving through her in such a way that her feet no longer touch the ground and she cries out. Cries out in physical anguish and for the woman she has lost.

Just what has become of her?

She is supposed to loath the fairy; she has already made an oath of vengeance for when she is through playing nice.

But she doesn't think that it is an act anymore.

Somewhere down the line, she has grown particularly fond of the loathsome fairy.

Fond enough to find herself impaled in the woman's place.

A sense of duty, she tells herself. Nothing more.

Yet sacrifice isn't in her job description.

They told her to guard and protect Bloom to the best of her abilities. That after a year of service, she would be free. There is nothing to detail that she has to make a shield of herself.

She shouldn't be in this position. She shouldn't…

"Icy!" Bloom calls.

Having success enough for one day, Blizzard retreats. Icy hadn't noticed her departure.

She feels a warm hand on her cheek. "You didn't have to do this."

Icy shakes her head. "I did." She confesses bitterly and hating herself more for it. A thin trail of blood works its way out of her mouth. Wincing the entire time, she shatters the base of the ice spike and drops as gracefully as she can manage.

There is no grace at all.

She stumbles and Bloom has the decency to catch her before her body can meet the ground.

She coughs, with it, blood streaks the back of her hand. Never has she felt this magnitude of pain. "You're lucky that I was never this heartless." She remarks, gesturing to the spike protruding from her belly.

"Because you're not evil."

Icy scoffs for a second time. She had just saved the fairy and now she is making rude remarks. "Yes. I am."

"I don't believe that." Bloom replies, causing Icy's frown to deepen before it fades into a grimace.

Icy draws a forced breath. "For fuck's sake, let me die with some dignity."

"I'm not going to let you die." Bloom helps lower Icy into a sitting position. "Here, hold still."

Icy sucks in a deep breath as Bloom begins tugging on the spike.

She hisses in pain. "No, let me do it!" She takes another breath and channels her magic into shattering the ice. A dizzying gush of blood follows the ice's crackling shatter. Icy's second cry is as sharp as the spike she'd just splintered. It takes everything she has to clear her head enough to freeze her own blood and only enough to deter its flow. "Bloom…" her voice comes out sickeningly weak. "I'm going to do something risky, but it's my best chance." She pauses. "I'm going to…" she groans inwardly. "I'm going to need your help."

Bloom nods.

"I'm going to freeze my blood completely. You need to bring me to the hospital and, once they have this, " she carefully pats her puncture wound, "patched up, I need you to melt the ice in my veins."

"You're going to trust me with that?"

Icy sniffs indignantly, "you're a softie, you won't let me die." She shudders, she is more worried over her own abilities. Freezing her own blood is no easy feat; feeling each and every vein slowly solidifying is terribly unpleasant. The enteirty of her body goes frigid; blood, bone, flesh, and soul, until the only scrap of warmth comes from Bloom's hand on hers.

.oOo.

Bloom is surprised by how much relief she feels when Icy partially opens her eyes. She squints against the sun that streams through the parted curtains.

"You… actually saved me?" Icy asks.

"Of course!" Bloom exclaims. She offers a bright smile. The witch sits up and flinches. "Take it easy!"

"I'm fine." Icy insists.

Bloom slides her a glass of water which she only glares at after folding her arms over her chest.

"This is your fault, you need to save yourself."

"I didn't ask you to take the hit.:

Icy frowns with more intensity. "You didn't have to." She mutters.

Bloom smirks, "you wanted to save me."

"I have a job, yes. And the sooner I do it, the sooner I can get back to my own aspirations."

"You like me, don't you?"

"You're the most loathsome person I've ever crossed." She says.

"And yet you decided that you like me anyways." Never has she seen the witch look so thoroughly unamused.

"That was a one time thing, don't think too much of it." She scowls. But it lacks the malice that her glares usually hold.

Bloom can't hold back a sly smile, but she decides ultimately not to push her luck. She doesn't want to push the witch away. Not when she is just beginning to make something of the final chance that she has been given. "Okay, okay." She lifts her hands. "You were just doing your job."

"That's right." Icy confirms with a firm nod.

Perhaps in time she'll be able to be more open with her feelings. Bloom has to admit that she has taken a shine to the witch for herself. Though it is more satisfying to let Icy make the first move.

Who is she kidding? The witch already has.