Drabbles and icons

[darcydodo]

I'm sick, so I tried to go to bed early. However, this just meant that I woke up at 12-something, because I'm sick. Ugh. Skin hurts, and tummy hurts. :(

I used the Christmas-y wake-up time to post my present for kimikoneko over at btvs_santa.

I wrote her a handful of drabbles, a few of which are linked. I originally had intended to do ones for Hanukkah, Christmas, blue & white, green & red, candles, holly, and mistletoe, but I got a bit lazy. So what we have is as follows:


The New Light of Day (post-"New Moon Rising")

She was warm, and her skin stroked something soft when she moved. Willow opened her eyes to the sun's bright light and the falser illumination of every lamp in the room. They jointly picked out and glowed on the fine blond hairs of Tara's arm where it lay across the covers. Oh, that's what's soft.

"When did the electricity come back on?" Tara's question was murmured into Willow's neck.

Willow thought about this, very briefly and with difficulty. She was too comfortable. "I don't know, but I preferred the candles and the dark. Then I didn't have to get up."



Magic Days (Winter, 2000)

Their heads were bent together, red hair mingling with streaked blond as they leaned over the book, whispers curling through the quiet air of the Magic Box.

"An ounce of dried spider legs?" Tara asked, her finger underscoring the line of text that she was reading. "That's going to blow the roof off the shop. It's got to be wrong."

"Even with a neutralizing thingummy in there, it's going to be way expensive," Willow agreed. She paused, reading the next ingredient. "How's the supply of mistletoe?"

Tara grinned in reply. "At this time of year? Does Giles stock anything else?"



Hanukkah at Home (December 21, 2000)

Latkes and menorahs and dreidls and gelt; those were normal, home-ish Hanukkah things, and Willow was entirely used to them. What she wasn't used to was having Tara there, awkwardly smiling at her parents, radiating out-of-place-ness vibes. She liked having her there, wanted her there, possibly more than anything. But she couldn't help feeling, at the same time, like she lived in about ten different worlds, all of which were trying to collide right here in the Rosenbergs' living room and squash her in their midst. She wondered how many of the remaining seven nights she could escape familial duty.

***

"I think they liked you," Willow offered hopefully. "I mean, my mom remembered your name, which is more than she does for most of my friends, and you're not a musician, which can only help." Then her eyebrows drew together with a sad pucker which Tara couldn't help but kiss. "But she thinks I'm being all statement-y, and she's busy being all proud and supportive, and I'm not even sure she actually noticed you."

Tara's lips curved slightly upward. "You really have a very nice family, Willow."

Willow began to disagree, then remembered Tara's relatives and thought better of it.



Pastime with Good Company (December 25, 2000)

"Oh Xander, it's beautiful!" exclaimed Tara as the five of them came in the door, shucking off raincoats and propping umbrellas against the wall. Xander just beamed with teary pride, but Anya came up behind him and nodded with great determination.

"He cut it down himself, with a sexy display of his large and manly muscles. And then when we brought it home . . ." Xander stopped her with a wince.

"Drinks, anyone?" he asked hastily.

Eggnog and mulled wine having been duly apportioned, they all sat on the couches and floor, a mostly happy and very mismatched family.

***

"So, first Christmas in your new apartment, how does it feel?" Willow asked, smiling happily.

"Like the best Christmas present ever," replied Xander emphatically. "Besides, it's raining, and yet I still will not get soaked."

Tara leaned against Willow, put her head on her shoulder. "Last Christmas I barely knew you," she said, softly.

At this, Willow glanced down, her expression tender. "Last Hanukkah I'd not even met you," she answered.

They stayed nestled like that for a moment, while the others chattered around them. Then Buffy leaned forward. "Okay," she said. "I want to witness the famous Xander Snoopy-dance."



Christmas Wishes (Christmas, 2001)

It would be so easy. She's more skilled, now, and she can feel the fire crackling in her fingers, blazing behind her eyes. But Dawn gives her hate-filled and betrayed glances when they pass each other on the stairs, and the yawning queen-sized bed is so very empty. Each time she reaches out for anything, she must consciously control the magic that unfurls inside of her, a vast yearning nearly as powerful as her ache for Tara's smile. Two years ago, she was dealing with spells gone awry. Now, she just makes a Christmas wish and hopes someone is listening.

***

The house pulls at her, and she can't keep away, finds herself unconsciously wandering past it day in and day out, watching the sun glint off the three panes of glass in the door. It's for Dawnie, she tells herself firmly. I'm just making sure she's okay. But it's unconvincing, she never could lie to herself; and now she again finds herself standing behind the neighbor's holly bush, staring up at the closed windows, fingers grasping glossy, thorned leaves that draw beads of blood as red as the berries festooning the stems. Silently, she wishes them all a merry Christmas.


I also made two icons (one of which was posted earlier):



And one final drabble, which was also posted earlier:


The walls were clean, the floor polished. Willow wrinkled her nose at the scent of lysol and polish lingering in the air, prowled along the hallway behind the four figures who walked in front of her. Them she would deal with later, but for now she ignored them, her attention focused elsewhere. Ah, there. She pushed through the double doors, smiling with amusement. Perfect. Intent on herself, she crept forward, watched as she slid back down from the counter, skirt wrinkling up just so. Pounced, hand sliding over her mouth, fingers digging into her arm.

"Alone at last," she smirked.