Work Text:
“Come, Diana – there’s no harm in trying an Ouija board,” said Anne, who pronounced the cumbersome word as ‘oo-ee-juh’.
Diana had been sitting timidly back, close to the fire, nursing a cup of cider all evening – the notion of messing with the spiritual world, of doing something more daring than crunching through the kaleidoscope-colored leaves outside the door or sliding a knife through the thick flesh of a pumpkin was anathema to Diana’s enjoyment of the happy, sweet season. “Isn’t that a conduit to the devil’s door?”
Anne raised an eyebrow and took a bite of a gingersnap cookie; Marilla’s best, from the top shelf of the pantry. “I think the devil has much more interesting things to do with his time than bother us tonight.”
“Anne…”
“And since when do you think the devil’s going to come and get you?” Anne asked. She set the board down and then placed the planchette at the bottom of the board. “Is that my practical, sensible Diana?”
Diana’s cheeks flushed. “Well,” she harrumphed.
“Well,” echoed Anne. “Come help me then!”
Diana leaned over the board, her dark hair still smelling of woodsmoke and dust from the afternoon party they’d attended. Anne didn’t swoon when she smelled it, but her cheeks did turn a shade redder. “Place your fingertips down,” she instructed. “And let the planchette move….” When it did, Diana let out an alarmed ‘Anne!’ “Now don’t be scared,” Anne said. “Watch where it goes.”
Diana kept her eyes focused upon the board. “K-iiii….”
“S!” said Anne with enthusiasm.
“S!” Echoed Diana. “Spirit, why do you want us to kiss?”
The board didn’t move. Anne shrugged and leaned over, pecking Diana’s cheek.
Diana flushed and rubbed her cheek. “Why on earth did you do that?” she asked.
Anne sat back and sipped her cider. “The spirit moved me,” she explained, and smirked as Diana wilted back against the couch.