The blonde wasn't cute. She had a vapid personality and was far too responsive to the slightest of compliments. poor looks with poor brains with small boobs, she had little reason to flaunt herself in the bars. But she had a glint of deviousness in her smile, and David was taken in by that falsity, even as it repelled others.
She nattered on about television and her desk job and all manner of uniteresting things.
"I'm a witch, you know." That comment jarred David out of his reverie on the similarities between the Loa of africa and the Mushi of japan.
"Come again?" He asked.
"I'm a witch, spells, potions, the lot." David blinked at her. No tacky ankh, no overburdening of trashy jewelry, no black clothes. Had he run into an actual witch, instead of the fakes?
"Really now? You don't seem to dress like most witches I've met."
"No, I do all the robes and stuff on the weekends, some people get upset if I slip up and say goddesses, but you didn't seem to even bat an eyelash."
"I try not to be judgemental." David says with a smile. It doesn't come across as the suave and sophisticated he wanted it, but it carries the point. Namely covering up his ignoring her for half of the conversation.
"Thanks." She looks like she's about to go off on some other tangent, but David cuts in.
"Do you have a lot of witch things at your place? I'd love to see some." It was crass, and it was blunt and direct. And it was a guy expressing interest in her.
"Sure! I mean yes!"
A short cab ride and david was reacquantainted with the modern pagan memorobilia. Suppression stones were stacked haphazardly next to vengeance idols and a runic necklace of fire on the desk. A half-dozen paper charms for luck and fortune were spread over a glass tabletop, with three black candles in pewter holders. There was no order, no logic, no sense to her arrangement. The glass allowed the luck and fortune to drain down to the earth, while the black candles required holders made of metal to function. It was all so...unsorted.
"Do you like it?" She asked wide eyed, at David, as she led him on the tour that went from bad to worse. It all just seemed like a jumble of random stuff bought at fairs.
Until he got to the bedroom, and David's eyes blinked. Fertility. Concentrated fertility. There was statues to four of the fertility goddesses at the corners of the room, and that small hammer resting on the headboard was a depiction of Mjolnir if ever he'd seen one. A few paper fertility charms hung next to a vanity mirror, reflecting their power back to the bed.
"This room seems...different." David muses, even as he tries to work out why this room was so organized, in comparison to the others.
"Well, my friend Katie helped me when I moved in here; she helped set up this room, and I just love how it looked, so I did my best in the other rooms."
She was leaving out an important part, but for his unlife David could not figure it out. Why had she focused so hard on this room, instead of the hearth, or the entrance? Why was she so obsessed with fertility.
David felt the blonde hug him close. Apparently he wasn't the only one being blunt and forward tonight. "I really enjoyed spending time with you. Can you stay a little longer?"

As she lay in bed, asleep from the exertions, David drank his fill. Looking up at the ceiling, the pattern of glowing stickers in the pattern of Virgo, that David understood.
A mother. She so desperately wants to be a mother, to have a child to love as her own. Probably trapping the husband as well. I'm sorry, but I cannot be the father to your children. I have my own children to look after, and the Crone has closed off this road to children to me.
Standing in the doorway, he spoke softly.
"Bastet, devourer of men, bless this child, one of your daughters. Shower her with your attention, and let her be the mother she so desires."