White Christmas
"Why did I agree to this? I'm not Christian. I don't celebrate Christmas. And yet, here I am, staring at a Christmas tree, trying to decide where is the best place to hang a little glass bumblebee that's playing a saxophone. What's wrong with me?"
Dawn looked over at her lover and grinned. "You're doing this because you love me and I asked you too. And that little glass bumblebee is a Christopher Radko, so be careful with him. He cost about $50."
Tara stared at the delicate bauble she held in her hand. "You bought a Christmas ornament for $50??"
Dawn sighed as she hung up a teeny sled. "No, my mother did, for my 12th birthday. I'd decided that the coolest thing in the world would be to play the saxophone. Plus, I loved yellow and black at the time...So, mom decided to combine the two and got me that ornament."
Tara winced at the sad look that came into the other woman's eyes. This happened every time Dawn talked about her mother. Even though the woman had been dead for over 10 years, Dawn still got misty eyed. Tara knew how she felt, considering her own mother had died when she was young.
Dawn shook herself free, though, and went back to stringing up ornaments, garlands, and bows on the 8 ft evergreen that was in the corner of their living room. Tiny white lights sparkled deep within the branches, creating an illusion of depth. The effect was stunning, when coupled with the decorations the pair was using.
"Hey, do you guys want popcorn? I think that it always goes very well with the cider that we just made." Willow came into the room, bearing a tray full of steaming mugs.
Tara looked at Dawn, who nodded. "Yes, thank you, Willow. Lots of butter and salt, too."
Willow grinned. "Is there any other way to have it? An, honey, you can bring in the bowls now. Where's Wes?"
"Here I am," said the former watcher, coming in the front door. "I went outside to see what I could see. You all might want to join me." And with that, he stepped back outside.
The four women looked at each other puzzled. Ever since they had decided to spend the holiday together, being the only ones remaining that every spoke to each other, they'd wondered at some of the habits of Wesley. The man had been very quiet and withdrawn, only speaking up to make strange comments about the weather. Willow and Tara had discovered some conjuring herbs and implements in his bedroom when they had gone on their cleaning spree, but had been unable to discover what he had been up to.
Anya was the first to break the silence. "I suppose that the only thing that we can do is go outside. Let's not forget our coats. It seems to have gotten a bit chilly outside."
Dawn nodded her agreement. "Yeah. It's almost like that Christmas Eve when..." Dawn trailed off, looking at Willow, her eyes wide.
Willow looked equally stunned. "You don't really think...this is California, for Goddess' sake...I mean..."
Anya and Tara just looked at their lovers in confusion. "What are you two talking about?" asked Tara.
Willow swallowed, and went to the coat closet, pulling out four heavy jackets. "There was a Christmas Eve that Angel decided that he wanted to greet the dawn. And I mean the sunrise, not this Dawn."
Dawn nodded. "But somehow, after an insane heat wave, Sunnydale was plunged into freezing cold, and there was a snowstorm. It was like the PTB wanted to keep Angel from killing himself."
Tara finished pulling on her own jacket and held Dawn's open for her. "I think that I remember hearing about that. But what does that have to...oh." Understanding suddenly illuminated the blonde's eyes.
Anya still looked confused, but chose not to say anything. Instead, she followed the other three out the front door, only to slam into Willow's soft back as they halted just outside the doorway.
Wesley stood in the middle of the yard, a shy smile in his face, watching the four women that had so graciously accepted him for who he was. They had invited him to spend Christmas with that, without a second thought. He knew that he had to repay them somehow, but for a long time, he couldn't figure out what he could do. Then he remember a simple wish that Anya had once made in his hearing, and had set his mind to granting that wish, even if it was just for Christmas Eve.
Instead of beautiful stars dotting a deep velvety black sky, tiny white crystals of frozen water, in hundreds and thousands of individual patterns fell softly from the sky, feathering across soft cheeks that were exposed to the air, landing in brown, red, and blonde hair, slowly covering the ground in a cold white blanket.
"It's snowing. It's...it's...there's tiny...it's..." Anya babbled, staring about her in wonderment.
Willow stepped off the front porch into a rapidly building drift. "Wes, you made it snow?"
Wesley nodded. "I once heard Anya say that she wished she could play in the snow. So, as my gift to you all, I conjured you a white Christmas."
All four women looked at each other, then looked at Wesley. And then ran to the very surprised man and enveloped him in four pairs of warm arms.
"Thank you, Wesley. This was the best Christmas gift you could have given any of us."
The man blushed, but returned all the hugs. "Just giving my girls a White Christmas. Merry Christmas, Dawn, Tara, Willow, Anya."
Four females smiled, four feminine voices responded.
"Merry Christmas, Wesley."