Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Summary: Even when one is in a rush on a cold winter night there is time to appreciate beauty.
Note: A holiday card fic for gwynnega, who requested wintry Willow/Giles.
Disclaimers: The characters belong to Joss and various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
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Through Snow-Covered Glasses
Flaming Muse

"Giles, are you coming?" Willow called up the stairs.

"Just a minute," Giles replied, typing as fast as he was able.

"We're going to be late, and Anya said she'd turn you into a frog if you made us miss the carol singing. You *know* how I feel about frogs!"

"I'll be right there, dear. I'm just finishing up an e-mail about the Trier Codex." He hit the wrong combination of keys, and the computer beeped at him. "Infernal machine," he muttered.

"Please hurry. I'll go and start the car. And don't forget a coat; it's started to snow."

Giles rushed through the rest of the e-mail and shut off the lights in the study before hurrying downstairs. As he slipped on his coat, he patted his pockets to be sure he had his notebook and pen; he had forgotten to mention that one of the glyphs was actually an interesting combination of two other symbols, and he'd have to make a note to send another e-mail when they returned. Perhaps he could convince Willow to drive so that he could distill his thoughts further on the way.

Shutting the front door, he nearly bumped into his wife on the stoop. Willow was bathed in the yellow glow of the porch light, and snowflakes were swirling around her like a cascade of glitter.

She turned to him, her pink fuzzy hat pulled low over her ears and her smile as startling bright as it always was when it was directed at him. Softened by warm light and sparkling snow, she looked just like the girl he had met in the high school library, despite the twenty years, two children, and countless apocalypses they had both weathered.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, gesturing to the glistening lawn in front of them.

Theories about codices and concerns about Anya's wrath slipped away, and all of Giles' thoughts, as they so often did in Willow's presence, focused entirely on her.

"I couldn't imagine anything more so," he said.

"You're not looking at the snow," she said, giggling.

"Why would I when there's something much more lovely right in front of me?" Removing his glasses, he pulled her close and kissed the winter chill from her lips.


The End
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