A pair of pantyhose

James didn't see anything that really struck him in his own room. Not that the spell was going to work anyway, but if he actually had an item of clothing become animated...what would have the most articulated motion? A pair of socks could walk, but that was technically two items, in a sense. He almost decided on a pair of his own jeans, but when he pictured what it would be like to see something come to life and walk about on its own, something a little more daring occurred to him.

He went into his parents' bedroom. He knew what he was looking for, though not exactly what drawer to find them in. He went to mom's vanity and opened up a drawer full of panties. No way. Another one held most of her bras. He laughed to himself, wondering what an animated bra could even do. The third drawer seemed to hold a bunch of workout clothes, and for a second he considered a pair of leggings, but kept looking.

"Ah ha," he said, opening the fourth drawer. Hosiery. A full lower-half in one lightweight, compact item. The spell obviously--obviously wasn't going to work, but if it did, animated pantyhose would be able to comfortably walk on their own feet. That was the reasoning, at least. He picked out a pair of soft, tan hose, dangling them on the edge of the drawer with the paper in hand.

He read the words, tripping over a few as he sounded them out. Over the course of a minute he got through all four lines of the supposedly magical verse.

Now, while he hadn't expected the spell to work--some part of him was getting excited wondering what clothing brought to life would do. Would it follow his commands? Would it just walk around? Would it only listen to its original owner? Was there some sense of object memory in it that would leave 'programming' in the clothes that made them behave like they did when someone was wearing them?

"Puh," he muttered, looking at the stone-still stockings on the edge of the drawer. "I mean it didn't hurt to try, but I still feel dumb." He stuffed the hose back into their drawer and folded up the paper, putting it in his pocket. When he came back to his room, he looked at the book again, clasp still in place. "I suppose I could try reselling the thing on ebay or etsy or something. It's a cool looking thing, even if it is bunk."

He jumped on his bed, laptop in his lap as he tried to identify the book against others for sale. Apparently it was rare to have a clasped volume, and even the ones he found were usually bound with a simple leather strap--nothing like the dense bronze fitting that capped both hardcovers on his.

Then James jumped. He thought heard a noise from the next room over. Spilling his laptop onto his bed, he stood up. Maybe someone came home? He went to the window in his room. Empty driveway.

Another noise--this one sounding like wood-on-wood. It absolutely came from his parents' room.

"There's no friggin' way," he muttered. He looked back at the book, and then fingered the paper stuffed into his pocket. The very specific whine of the squeaky hinge on the door to his parents room found its way to his ears, and he tensed up. "No way no way no way..." his eyes were fixed on his open doorway, waiting. After what seemed like an eternity, he took a few steps forward. "Uh...hello?" He couldn't bring himself to turn the corner. There was NO WAY he was actually going to find a pair of hose standing there, right?

A few moments more, and he steeled himself. He peeked out his door carefully to see...

The hallway. With nothing in it.

"You've gotta be kidding," he muttered again. He stepped out into the hall, noticing that his parents' door was halfway opened. He hadn't left it like that. He slowly walked to the threshold, and when he opened the door, he saw them.

They were standing, facing the closet. One of the translucent feet seemed to be kicking something around on the ground. James stuck fast, taking in the wonderous sight. Animation. Bringing things to life. There were a ghostly pair of nylon legs standing in his parents room--well, legs, backside and waist, really--messing with something on the floor of the closet on his mom's side. He didn't know how to react. He almost didn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment.

He just watched as it became clear--they were finding themselves a pair of shoes. Black high heels, to be specific. The toes manipulated one of the shoes into place so that they could step in. Once one foot found its place, the other followed. Now James understood what they were doing--they had to work the shoes into place so they could just step into them. The stockings didn't exactly have hands.

Before he had the wherewithal to react, the hose had the shoes on and turned to face him. He took a step back, slamming into the door jamb and putting his hands up.

"You--you're real," He gulped. "I mean, of course you're real. I mean, the spell is real. I mean, you can walk." The hose walked in an arc, not heading right for him, but pacing around the room and turning when they got to his parents' bed. They walked an arc in the other direction and turned all the way around, as if they were showing off. James nervously laughed a little. "That's...awesome. I mean, you look...you look like you know what you're doing. You know?"

The hose bobbed at the knee a little, bending their waist toward James. He grinned, realizing that this interaction had to be an indicator of some kind of communication.

"Yeah, you're welcome. I think." He took a step forward, away from the doorway and into the room. "I, uh, see you went straight for the shoes," He said. The pantyhose went into motion again, this time getting closer to him as they walked a half-circle toward his flank. The hips of the silky hose swayed a bit, and now they were only about a yard from him. He couldn't wipe the smile from his face. He was in the presence of magic. Real magic. The hose turned a 180 and wiggled their butt toward him, and James blushed a little, not really knowing how to take the signal.

"So I take it you like being...locomotive, then?" The hosiery shimmied back toward him, and he felt himself clamming up as the nylon rear bumped the side of his own hip, ever so gently. They spun a half-turn again, their legs facing him as they dipped just enough to squeeze his right leg with their thighs. He held his hands up and away from them, letting them do their thing.

The affectionate little move was over as quickly as it began, and the hose stepped back a little, standing in front of him now. James could only let out another nervous laugh. He absolutely didn't expect all this. Now that he gave this pair of hosiery a life of their own, what was he supposed to do with them?