[WM] 65.6: Book of Matches

Her fingertips trace over the logo printed on the outside of the flimsy flap of the matchbook, supposedly safely concealing the matches underneath. Her nail catches the flap, opens the cardboard folder with a twist and a flick of finger and thumb. Why, she wonders, in a society that has become so adamantly opposed to tobacco, in hotels that do not even allow smoking in most if any at all of their rooms, do they insist on placing these in the bedside table, all but begging to be struck, to be used to catch something ablaze. A cigarette. A candle wick. Scraps of paper gathered in a bowl, secrets or love letters that need to be burned away to ashes.

She tears a match from the book. Turns the folder in her fingers. Drags the tip across the coarse striking surface. Watches the flame burn rapidly down the length of the matchstick. Drops the burning cardboard into a glass of water when it threatens to singe her fingertips.

The flame dies with a hateful hiss.

She repeats the unhurried, almost mechanical motions.

Pull. Strike. Burn. Hiss.

She’s aware that she’s settling in for something like a sulk…or maybe just a zone out, as she’s trying hard not to think too much. Thinking leads to brooding. Brooding leads to sulking. Sulking leads to her saying things she shouldn’t and she doesn’t want to be a wet blanket on everyone else’s happy times. It’s bad enough that she can’t keep the occasional thing from slipping out, that there are and will always be cracks in her that let emotions leak when she’d much rather suppress them. Let’s not make it worse. It's easier that way.

Just smile. Force it if you have to. Don’t be unhappy. Don’t act like a brat, because that‘s what you‘ll be considered. A whiny brat. Take it out on the vampires, beat them until they no longer resemble anything human or undead before you finish them off, which is the very thing you used to tell the girls not to do, but it’s better to be a hypocrite than a brat. Right?

Pull. Strike. Burn. Hiss.

Until the matches are gone.

[TWP] Henry Kissinger quote

There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full.

======================

"No."

"Bee--"

"No!"

"But--"

"NO! No no no, I forbid it, I forbid it!! Do you hear me?!" The shout was directed not into the mouthpiece of her phone but upwards, in the direction of the ever elusive Powers That Be. "There cannot be a crisis next week! My schedule is already full! Do you see it?! Do you see the schedule on Adam's fridge?!! That's the schedule and 'Prevent Apocalypse' is not on it!!"

"...Okay! So glad I have another ear."

"...Sorry." Baileigh exhaled a breath and sank down onto the bed. "It's Christmas."

"I know."

"There cannot be an apocalypse on Christmas."

"Mmmmmmmm, don't think the demons celebrate Christmas, Chosimba." She heard a creak over the phone and could only assume Annie had flopped back onto her bed as well. "In fact I'm pretty sure they're all anti-warm squishies and Jesus and...ssssstuff. Besides, if you'd chill with the Powers-ranting and the blowing my right eardrum for a good five seconds, I could tell you we're not at full scale apocalypse proportions."

"Yet."

"Yeah, okay, yet. Doc thinks we could be looking at some kind of parasite. Infects the human host, kind of hollows out the insides before it takes over, and it moves fast. We're talking wicked scary fast, and the hosts are wicked scary incarnate. Strong. Fast. Really, really fast, Church."

"Isn't it Hellmouth activity?"

"More around the Hellmouths, but only cause they're so drawn to the evil Hellmouthy mojo. It's not Hellmouth related. That's why I'm calling, cause some cases have been reported up in your--what'd you and the blonde homewrecker in L.A. call it?"

"Uh...'stupid miserable frozen tundra of a state'?"

"Yeah, the stupid miserable frozen tundra of a state. Doc thinks so, anyway. Says the reports fit in with the intel he's got."

And he was probably dead-on right. Cain was an asshole through and through, but when it came to his job--both his jobs, both the one that paid the bills and the Watcher duties--he didn't mess around. "Okay. I'll be careful."

"Nuh-uh, Church, not good enough. Be better than careful. Be Supergirl. Be bulletproof. You got no Shelia and no Booky Bookworm up there and it scares us. How come that doesn't sink in with you?"

"Hey." Her voice took on an edge of resentment, but she couldn't help it and didn't try. "I have support. My back is covered."

The pause is lengthy, longer than what she'd expect from Annie. "...But not by us."

A knot of stress and tension was forming--or maybe just worsening--at the base of her neck. She sighed heavily, lifted a hand to rub at it futiley. "I'll be fine. I promise. I'll be bulletproof."

"You better be, Church. Imma cutchoo if you die on me."

She laughed. Not much of a laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "Right. We'll pretend that made sense."

[MYL] 53.1, 2, 3, & 4

1. Make a list of people who you still need to buy presents for.

-Almost everyone

2. Make a list of hints you've dropped to get specific presents.

-I don't care

3. Make a list of decorations.

-I don't care

4. Make a list of holiday songs you enjoy.

-I hate them all

*is so asking for trouble*

The I'D HIT IT Meme

For muse_secrets

[anonymous, obviously]

( image under the cut )