First Impressions
When they finally arrived for in Cleveland for Thanksgiving,
Rupert panicked. Crashing insecurities kept him chained to his car
seat and he tried to remember how to breathe.
They
were family, his heart said; they would understand. But Buffy
would never look at him the same and he felt the loss.
“Are
you ready, Gil?” His voice shook.
“Rupert,
we’ll be fine.”
The
scientist’s face was imperturbable, a tiny smile dancing
at the corners of his lips- the wry smile that drew them together
to being with. The watcher looked at his lover and exhaled.
“Let’s
go meet the family.”
Evening's Entertainment
“So, this is what you do for fun?”
“Yup.”
“Every
family gathering?”
“Yup.”
Connor
watched his girlfriend poke at the demon corpse with her toe,
frowning at the steaming pile of entrails. He flinched when she
grimaced at the greenish stain spreading on her pants leg.
“That’s
interesting.”
She
crouched lower, titling her blonde head to one side, fingers obviously
itching for a pen and paper. Her face was blank and he couldn’t
tell what she was thinking until she launched herself into his
arms.
“I
knew it! This is so cool.”
And
that was why he loved Chloe Sullivan.
Pass The Yams
Faith wasn’t big on family gatherings. Mostly because
hers sucked major donkey balls in a truly biblical way. Early
childhood holidays had consisted of loud voices liberally sauced
with bourbon and vodka chasers. When she got older, they involved
avoidance and clever footwork.
So
she was totally unprepared for what she found when she went home
with Clark for Thanksgiving. Cornfields and cows aside, there
were pies. And turkeys. And stuffing. And more pies. But no bourbon
with vodka chasers.
When
Martha passed the candied yams with marshmallows on top, Faith
reconsidered the idea holidays and decided she’d found heaven.
Gingerbread