[Sanctuary] Christmas Tradition
Christmas Tradition
Sanctuary. Helen/Will, G. Some angst. Reference to season 2. 513 words. For the 12 Days of Fandom. Summary: Helen and Will share a Christmas tradition.
Christmas to Helen had always been what every holiday was about, another marker in a year gone by, a reminder of the time and people lost to her. The last several years had been particularly trying with the loss of so many. The holiday that had once began with Ashley’s glee at the first dusting of snow on the front lawn now rang emptier than ever.
She would put on a brave face in the morning as she always did. For now, however, tucked away in the library after the traditional mass she sat with every bit of sorrow her heart possessed.
“It’s almost midnight.” Will whispers knowingly, appearing in front of her all too suddenly. She eyes the tea service he holds with some interest, it’ll serve as a distraction for them both.
He sets the tray aside and takes a seat next to her, squeezing himself into the impossibly small space that remains. She smiles faintly at his antics and shifts until she’s half seated in his lap, her legs diagonally across his.
His arm around her, she leans her head against his shoulder as he toys with her hair.
“I brought gingerbread cookies and spiced tea.” He speaks again before burying his face in her hair. Such a small comfort she thinks, but he’s fond of it. A personal although plutonic gesture that never fails to make her smile, even if it is somewhat faint.
“I keep thinking-“ she stops with a sigh. She’d been thinking a lot of things none of which bore repeating. He was concerned, reasonably so; it wasn’t like her to spend this much time away from the others or her work.
She curls further into him and his grip tightens, warm and reassuring.
“Tesla slipped another sprig of mistletoe over the door to your office. The cat thing you brought in this morning climbed the tree and ate the cranberry garland. Oh and Henry’s objecting to the cinnamon men decorations. He says they make him want to sneeze every time he walks by the living room.”
“He always complains.” Helen chuckles, “but when we don’t put them up he says the tree looks empty.”
Will hums something that sounds like “that’s what I told him,” and she chuckles again.
“There’s a late night showing of A Christmas Carol starting in five minutes if you’re interested.”
“You’re going to make me move?” She pouts.
The arm wrapped around her falls away as he digs through his pocket. “Henry said we should be able to watch it on here.”
Eyeing his phone wearily, she’s relieved when he leans it against the teapot beside them and wraps his arm back around her.
“I suppose we could manage,” she teases, “promise to wake me for the end.”
“Of course.” He laughs knowing full well she would never do such a thing. The play and then the movies had been a favorite of hers since she was a child. For him it’d been the one thing he could count on every year, a tradition. A Christmas tradition they now shared.