Title: Holidays (1/1) Author: Meredian Email: mere_dythe@hotmail.com Summary: Response to Sali’s Christmas challenge. Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Joss does. Cool? Rating: Um… R… I think Content: Kissing, a bit of violence Notes: I had fun writing this… hope you enjoy! *s indicate thought. ----------------------Her tiny hand reached out, taking the rose colored ball and setting it lightly on a tree branch. In the twinkling golden lights of the tree, the rosy and silvery balls sparkled brightly. The Christmas tree sat in the firelit room, heaped with the glowing ornaments, a piece of the clouds at sunset brought to earth.
Willow Rosenberg turned, her pale skin growing pink as the lights bathed over it. Her eyes sparkling, she smiled brightly as she gathered more glass balls. As she turned to hang another set, strong hands slid around her calves, massaging up and down.
"Enjoying your Christmas experience, my dear?" A voice murmured, absorbed in rubbing the muscles of her legs.
Willow almost melted, her heart growing warm. "I am… Decorating the tree isn’t something we do in Ira Rosenberg’s house. But this is fun." As she spoke, she absently placed another hook on a branch. Her eyes closed briefly, savoring her lover’s caress. Brushing one bright red lock from her cheek, she thought about this year’s holiday season. The Willow she knew would never have spent the cold nights of December here, of all places.
Warm breath drifted over her neck, as a whisper filled her ear. "You look so lovely in the firelight."
Feeling a chill pass through her legs, Willow sank to the carpet. The fire light touched her face, and in the rose of the tree, she looked like an angel resting on the floor. As strong legs stood in front of her, she saw her lover lowering to the floor in front of her. As he leaned forward to kiss her neck softly, she slid her fingers into his hair.
"Make love to me, Rupert."
Giles could do just that.
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As the strains of "White Christmas" faded from the television set, Buffy snuggled further into the other girl’s arms.
"I love that movie. So romantic."
"Yeah, B, great." Faith sounded less than impressed. She had agreed to come over and watch movies with the other Slayer, purely because they were both feeling down. With Buffy leaving Angel forever, and Faith feeling friendless, the two had nothing better to do than hang out together.
But it hadn’t been that bad of a night. Faith had impressed Buffy in the kitchen, showing the blonde that she could make killer sugar cookies. The two had snacked on them while watching old Christmas movies and painting their nails.
*Could have been a much worse night…* Faith thought absently, leaning back on the couch cushions. *Hell, this is a much better place to spend the holidays than back in that hotel room.*
As she looked at the festive decorations strewn about the Summers’ home, and a few that she couldn’t seem to place *Must be from the gallery*, she felt wistful for the home she had left behind. And the family she had lost.
Unexpectedly, Faith felt tears come to her eyes. Blinking them angrily, she tried to halt any breach of her tough demeanor as fast as possible. But Buffy, turning her head, caught a glimpse of the shining salty drops. Frowning slightly, she leaned forward to brush Faith’s lips with her own.
The dark haired Slayer was startled, "Wh-what was that for?"
"You looked like you needed it… and like you needed this." With a coy look, Buffy kissed Faith again, bringing her tongue gently into her mouth, causing the other girl to jump.
Placing her hands gently on Buffy’s blonde locks, Faith sighed softly.
From the TV floated a fresh set of lyrics…
"It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…"
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Cordelia sat in her room, writing in her diary. These days without Xander had been empty, curiously empty, for her. Her dark eyes looked at the page, re-reading her handwriting. Pleased with what she wrote, she shut the book, sliding it between the mattress and the box spring. *One can never be too careful with privacy*
She lay back on her pillows, gazing at the mockingly festive decorations which festooned her room. Grimacing, feeling no way at all in touch with the holiday spirit, she curled on her side, clutching a throw pillow to her chest. Her eyes dimmed, hazy with memory, as she thought about *his* face, *his* lips.
It was too much to bear.
She dissolved into tears, hitching in breaths, shuddering with agony. *What holidays? I might as well be dead*
Suddenly, from outside, she heard a horn honk. Screwing her eyes shut, she lay back trying to ignore the sound, so she could be lost in her pain. But the horn kept blowing. Finally, curiosity overwhelming her, Cordelia stood wiping tears from her cheeks. Walking slowly over to the window, she parted the heavy burgundy drapes, peering down at the street. She caught her breath at the sight.
Oz sat in his van, gazing directly up at her room, ceasing the horn blowing when he saw her face. He waved a hand, beckoning her to come down.
Cordy considered for a second, then nodded. *Why not?*
As she left the room, grabbing a purse, she checked her make up with her travel compact.
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Xander sat in the near empty Bronze, slumped over at the bar. *Leave it to the holidays to clear a club* Clutching his glass of generic egg nog, he smiled at nothing in particular. *Don’t know why you are smiling, Harris. None of the girls in your life even bothered to return your phone calls.*
He chuckled slightly under his breath, more from hysteria than hilarity. From the end of the bar, the club’s only other patron, Scott Hope, glanced up at him.
Xander waved dismissively, then went back to gazing into the pale fluid in his glass.
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The streets of Victorian London practically glowed with light. But it was no sunlight; only the rays of the stars reflecting off of the frosty ground. The tall, dark man and his lady strolled through the streets, arm in arm. The few passersby who were awake at that hour turned to stare at the handsome couple. He in a grey suit with cravat, she in a long, pale grey gown, their dark hair and eyes matching precisely: they were a matched set.
He turned to whisper in her ear, saying something that caused her to giggle. She clapped her hands delightedly, her wide eyes sparkling. They continued to walk at a faster pace, their booted heels stomping through the thin coating of snow.
Out of the fog came a small boy, carrying a tin cup, shaking it softly so that the people walking could hear the clink of the few coppers which resided within. He approached the pretty couple, his hunger filled eyes imploring them to give what they could. The two smiled, taking the boy between them. His face lit up, imagining the lovely dinners these two kind people would bring him.
As they strolled onto a deserted street corner, the man nodded at the woman. She smiled motherly down at the boy, ruffling his dirty hair.
Then her face transformed, became that of a demon, as she battened down on his throat…
… Angel lifted one finger, smudging the frost on the window. In remembering those Christmases with Dru, the way she had been like a child, he almost felt happy.
Almost.