Title: Mawidge (1/1)
Author: Meredian
Email: mere_dythe@hotmail.com
Distribution: You want it? Just ask. Will be on my site,
https://www.angelfire.com/al/LadyBathory/index.html
Spoilers: Everything before "The Wish" is fair game.
Summary: A really random take on Sali’s wedding challenge. I make no 
apologies.
Rating: PG, I guess. 
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, but Joss’. If they were mine, wackiness would
ensue. The title and line from the beginning is from "The Princess Bride".
Note: I am on monkey crack. *s indicate thought.

______________________________________

She walked into the bedroom, dropping her books on her bed, letting out a sigh of relief. *at last… today is OVER* Wandering over to the mirror, kicking her shoes off as she went, Willow Rosenberg stared at her reflection. Her normally bright and chipper eyes were hazy and downcast; her rosy complexion had taken a turn for the sallow.

*I am so sorry…*

Thoughts of Oz, images of his changing hair color, his smile that had beamed at her for no reason in the past, flitted through her head like drunken butterflies. It had been a horrible day at school, pondering over his words, grinding the idea that he wanted to be left alone into her head. She had sat in history, staring at the chalkboard, not seeing the battle plans for Pearl Harbor, but instead seeing his eyes, and the pain, accepted and duly noted, that lie within. Every voice, every sound, every movement reminded her of her erstwhile werewolf boyfriend.

And it was driving her slowly mad.

Getting home had been a nightmare, walking down the street, seeing the places where he had held her hand and touched her cheek. *Why Xander…*

Shaking her head, she moved away from the mirror. A hand lifted to sweep her hair out of her face as she sat down on the bed. The velvety softness of her comforter ruffled beneath her fingers as she gazed around the room. Her mind began to move to darker thoughts, images of the hurt in *his* eyes floating through her mind.

"No!"

She slammed a fist down on the bed, violently pushing back any unhappy thoughts. She was tired of the guilt, tired of the pain, tired of the voices whispering to her in her thoughts.

She needed to escape for a while. And suddenly, her eyes lit up. She knew what to do.

Sliding off of her bed, she rummaged around beneath the bed frame until her hands found purchase. She pulled out a box, it’s flaps yawning slightly open. She reached inside, rustling it’s contents, smiling widely when she found what she wanted.

A Barbie, it’s bright titian hair cut in a bob. She remembered when she gave this doll it’s haircut: her little cousin had been over, and wanted a Scully doll. So Willow had gladly chopped the hair, cutting carefully above the plastic shoulders. Her cousin had been pleased, loving the short sweep of the strands.

Willow touched the hair, thinking about how much it looked like her with this haircut. She remembered when she had cut her own hair, shorter than it had ever been. She remembered Oz’s face when he stroked the bright strands.

Closing her eyes briefly, she moved any Oz thoughts from her mind. Like a robot, she reached into the box and pulled out a Ken doll. His dark hair sloped plastically from his brow; when she squinted, she could almost imagine a familiar face. Stopping suddenly, she grinned. She placed the dolls on the ground, hunting in the box for some clothes. What she found gave her a happy: a filmy white wedding gown, complete with tiny beaded veil and tights, and a Ken-sized black tux. Pulling out the tin in which she kept shoes, she quickly found a set of plastic white heels, and a black men’s loafer. But the other seemed to be lost. Muttering under her breath, she scoured the bottom of the doll box. When no shoe was to be found, she grumbled slightly, and tossed the oddball back in the box. Picking out some brown boots, she threw a glance at the Ken.

"Sorry Rupert, but you will have to not coordinate on your wedding day." She chuckled to herself. *I don’t know how fashion conscientious Giles is, anyway…*

She hurriedly dressed the dolls, smoothing the tiny clothes over their plastic forms. Without thinking about it, she whistled "the Wedding March". When they were ready, she stood them next to each other.

"Rupert and Willow, are you ready to get married?" She smiled, finding the approval she needed in their painted eyes.

Running through the wedding ceremony, she hummed, lost in happy Giles thoughts.

And Oz remained forgotten.