Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At 29 years old, Tally Craven was more accomplished than most. Her accolades in War College after the war far outshone many previously world renowned witches that had come before. She was intelligent, fierce - indispensable to the army at large. In a way, she’d done more for witchkind than the majority of the witches of her age. More than the majority of witches in general, the general herself liked to say. Her affinity for Knowing and her passion for people had brought the army into a new age, and for that, she was proud. Grateful. But, she was also - not for the first time in her life - very alone.

“Just bring someone next year for Christmas, Tally,” her mother had said, not twelve months before. “That would be your gift to us all.”

“Yeah, Tal!” Raelle had enthusiastically reiterated, through a mouthful of christmas pudding. “You’re hot as shit! It’s time you got yourself a fine piece of-”

The statement itself had been cut off rather skillfully by a stifling glare from the Bellweather matriarch on the other side of the room, but then again - the sentiment was there. Tally Craven was 29 years old and single - the biological clocking was ticking, they seemed to say. It wasn’t her fault, honestly. Her recent dating escapades had been disastrous at best. Not everyone was as lucky as her unit mates - having found their supposed soulmates at barely 20 years of age. She didn’t begrudge them their happiness or their perfectly formed families - their lives seemingly on track. It was more so that their success reflected poorly on her, unlike how her success reflected on them.

Tally hated the incessant emphasis on handfasting and biological proliferation within the witch community at large. This wasn’t to say that she didn’t know of its importance, nor was it that she didn’t want children of her own. She just knew that there were other things that were equally important overall. Her work, for example - had entirely shifted the narrative within war college and the military at large. Her research was revolutionary! But such things were rarely acknowledged at home. Even amongst her sisters, who were within the profession themselves, still found themselves wrapped up in this idea of lineage and children. It was exhausting.

Christmas was an odd sort of tradition that had developed. Given, of course - that it wasn’t traditionally Pagan or celebrated via witchkind at all. It was Raelle’s idea. For her, she claimed - that out of her childhood memories, Christmas had been her favourite. She would talk fondly of the civilian celebrations that happened when she was a child in the cession. The twinkling lights blinking above the snow covered streets. The carolers and their tunes. The traditional foods, and the merriness. She said that it was the time where she felt the world was finally whole.

Naturally, Abigail and Tally had been minorly bewildered by her statement - having not experienced it themselves. Tally was sceptical. Abigail had scoffed. And thus, as an obvious outcome to their pessimism, Raelle had set out to prove them wrong. The first year, it had just been the three of them. The next, the partners had come. Soon, it became a tradition - a week-long extravaganza where the entire Bellweather, Craven and Collar clans congregated in a previously rented house (before the Bellweathers had bought it, in true Bellweather fashion). It became their sanctuary from the world.

As time went by, and children began to appear - the years, becoming more and more rushed with activities and events - they found that the “Christmas week” as they put it, had become the only week when they could truly be alone. As a unit, as a family - both extended and blood. Tally had always loved the “Christmas week” in the 10 years since it had begun, she looked forward to it every year. It was only in recent years that it had become strained. She noticed the way that the older attendees looked at her, as if she herself was behind. For that one reason. That one stupid check box, that had yet to be checked in her regard. It was infuriating, overall.

It was for this reason that she had come up with a plan. One which was possibly poorly executed, and poorly planned. One that for all of Tally’s knowing abilities - she couldn’t see the outcome. She was determined - both to have a quiet Christmas and to have one where her best friend was not alone. She knew that Sarah had never celebrated Christmas, abhorring it naturally due to its civilian roots. Yet, she also knew her friend better than most - in that she was often quite lonely, and that she never knew when to rest. It was for this reason that her plan was hatched - whether or not Sarah would agree to it, was a different story overall. Tally did always have a way of getting what she wanted where Sarah was concerned.

….

It had been a particularly challenging day for the general, as she sat staring out the window. The sun was setting over the base, and she could hear the chatter of the cadets as they marched their way beside her office. She smiled to herself as she looked at them. Proud of the community that they had forged, this safe place - this witches place. One that was now rebuilt and rid of threats overall. While basic was still mandated for every witch at 18, they had more control over the outcome following its completion. This was Tally’s doing, her little gift to the world following the end of the war. She believed strongly in autonomy, and that affording them more leniency, would reduce dodging and boost morale overall.

She was right, of course - as Sarah learned that she often was. The two of them had come a long way from the tormentous battles of times gone by. The trust, once broken - was regained and stronger before. Sarah would go so far as to say that she was fond of the girl, perhaps a bit more. Not that she was quite a girl anymore, a woman more like - defying the expectations of the world. Words couldn’t describe how proud she was of her journey - little could rationalise how much her trust meant. In the ten years since their meeting, the two had become close. From enemies, to tentative friends, to colleagues - to closer than Sarah had felt for anyone in her 300 years.

In all honesty, it frightened her slightly. The sheer power that the girl managed to wield over her. She was Sarah Alder, general of the United States Military. She bowed for no one - no witch, civilian or soldier alike. Yet, as the years went by - there was a shift. Craven impressed her - time and time again. Both in strength and in intelligence. She was someone who was, dare she say - pure in soul? No, that was absurd. Still, it was hard to resist that pull. As if still attuned with each other's emotions from connections in times gone by - Tally seemed to see her in a way that no one else did. They understood each other, perhaps more than they understood themselves. That, above all, was what frightened her the most.

“Knock Knock,” she heard a mischievous voice call out from the door.

She rolled her eyes humorously, shaking her head at the woman’s behaviour. Tally had the most peculiar mannerisms at times, that happened to somehow only seek to endear her to the general more.

“Craven, you are aware that you are supposed to actually knock when you do that,” she drawled teasingly. “With your hand on the door.”

A sudden pressure on her shoulder startled her out of her statement, as she swung around in shock. Tally Craven stared back at her with a grin, as radiant as the day she met her - despite her slightly exhausted facade. Sarah shook her head mirthfully, glaring at her with a supposed look of disappointment, but as usual with the younger woman - lacking its usual strength. Tally giggled.

“But if I did that then I couldn’t startle you like this, Sarah,” she popped playfully. “And see that embarrassing blush that you’ve got right about now.”

The general gaped, flushing violently - much to her own embarrassment.

“Tally!” the general floundered, humiliated at the woman’s words. “That is entirely inappropriate.”

Tally only chuckled, sauntering her way to sit down opposite her desk. Smirking as she watched her friend violently straightening her posture and staring at her feet. It was so unlike the general to behave in such a way, and secretly Tally hoped that it was reserved especially for her. She loved teasing her, even if she knew that it meant very little at all. Sarah didn’t think of her like that - that itself would be absurd. Tally told herself this regularly, as she allowed her mind to wander into the possibilities, before she promptly set them aside. She grinned at her friend.

“It may be inappropriate but it’s also true,” Tally drawled, revelling in the way that Sarah glared back.

Sarah remained still. There was silence for a moment, before Tally piped up in a supposedly commanding manner. Her voice lilting in a similar manner to the general’s, as if to imitate her at will.

“Take a seat, General Alder,” she said, her face twisted as if in anger or concern.

The general laughed at this, raising a brow at the younger woman. Tally merely flushed, keeping her eyes firmly on the general’s head. She found that if she could avoid the woman’s eyeline - it was easier to hide her embarrassment. She didn’t want the general to think that she had feelings or anything for her - goddess, that would be absurd. She was just… intimidating, and exhilarating. As all friends are, she thought.

“Oh, so you’re giving the orders now, Craven,” Sarah said with a smirk.

Tally nodded quickly, attempting to hide the heat rising to her face.

“Erm,” she mumbled, shaking her head in succession. “Yes, yes I am.”

The general smiled at her broadly, taking her time as she slid down into her seat. Gingerly, she placed her hands on the table before her - glancing at Tally with a slightly apprehensive look. Tally tapped her foot, slightly nervously - a bubble caught in her throat. It wasn’t that she was uncertain in her planning, more so - that it was kind of a ridiculous request. She knew that she had come a long way in her friendship with the general - present behaviour included. However, this didn’t detract from the fact that she was still her superior officer - her boss. She worried that her request might blur the line between appropriate and inappropriate. She held her breath.

“Tally,” she heard the general say, her voice laced with concern. “Are you quite alright?”

Tally nodded quickly, glancing awkwardly about the room. Her behaviour, becoming more erratic as the seconds passed by. Sarah watched her with both curiosity and concern - noticing the way that her friend shifted. The tension in her jaw. Tally huffed suddenly, slapping her hands down on her thighs.

“So, here’s the thing,” she said bluntly. “I have a proposal.”

For some unearthly reason, the general found her heart sinking at her friend's words.

“That’s wonderful, Tally,” she replied, somewhat monotonously - yet for the goddess, she couldn’t figure out why she found herself displeased.

“When will the date be?” she added, in order to maintain her polite facade.

Tally blinked at her saying this. Watching with curiosity the way that the edges of the general’s lips seemed to tense, as if forcefully held there - an unusual sight in response to her own. She scratched her head, looking at Sarah in bewilderment.

“What?” she asked.

“The date,” Sarah replied rather brutishly. “For the handfasting.”

Tally froze. Her brain, not quite computing the linkage - at where Sarah had picked that idea up on her own.

“There’s no handfasting?” she said slowly, bewildered by her own phrase.

Now, it was Sarah's turn to look confused.

“But,” she murmured in an unusually soft tone. “You said I have a proposal. I assumed that-”

“-Oh!” Tally injected hurriedly, laughing nervously in reprieve. “No. No! I meant a proposal for you.”

Recognising her own words, Tally flushed at the implication - her ears burning almost as brightly as her hair. She flumbled for a quick response, unable to meet the general’s eyes.

“Not a marriage proposal, I mean-” Tally stammered

“-no, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous,” Sarah floundered in return.

“That’d be totally absurd-”

“-and we’re friends, afterall-”

“-yeah! And I mean-”

“-of course, I love you and all but-”

“- be my girlfriend?”

The room was silent.

“What?” They said in unison.

Sarah gaped at the younger woman in shock. Tally was equally dumbfounded in return.

“Girlfriend?” Sarah said, agonisingly slowly.

Tally flushed, shifting in her seat. Suddenly finding herself rather embarrassed at her previous request.

“It’s stupid,” she deflated.

Sarah looked at the way that the younger woman’s face fell. She frowned, trying to understand why it was such a heavily weighted request. From Tally’s behaviour, she had assumed that she was not being entirely serious. Besides, what would Tally even want with a woman like her. Sure, she had forgiven her for her wrongdoings. Indeed, as friends they had moved on. Lovers, however, was an entirely different ballgame. Far more weighted, deeper - somewhere where Sarah didn’t know if she could ever go.

“Just tell me,” she said with a smile.

It was stiff, but all in all - well intended. Tally sniffed, shaking slightly as she launched into her tale. She spoke of the Christmas week, and the story of how it began. She told Sarah of how special it was to her, and how it had felt of late. A small part of her hoped that Sarah would be intrigued beyond the aspect of her supposed pity party. Afterall, the Christmas week was the most important week in Tally’s yearly calendar, and as Sarah was one of her favourite individuals in the world - she desperately wanted to share it with her. Even if it was under a facade.

For her sins, Sarah did listen intently - rarely interrupting, besides if she had a query or request. She found herself slightly enamoured by the stories, but most of all, of that final component that she herself seemed to lack. That sense of familiarity, of family - the safety of a home. True, she had Fort Salem - a place where she was loved and adored by most. Yet, it lacked one critical insight - that sense of belonging. Fort Salem was a witch’s place, and she herself was a witch. Yet, she was also the witch that had started the movement - a feat that set her forever apart. As safe as it felt, she would always be different - for here, she was a leader for all.

She had a responsibility, a purpose. It wasn’t a home, more so an obligation. One she took on willingly, one she mostly enjoyed. However, she did miss the belonging of family - of relations without the title. Of being treated as Sarah, a person of her own. Not General Alder, commander of soldiers - fierce and malignant. Just herself - the woman she was before the bravado. The woman she was with Tally - the woman who seemed to see through it all. As she watched the younger woman speak, she found herself distracted as she often was in her presence - her bright and beautiful energy, such a perfect compliment to her own.

Reluctantly, she had to admit that she was happy that Tally wasn’t to be handfasted, as it would change their friendship dynamic overall. It wasn’t that she didn’t wish for the woman’s happiness - she wanted that more than anything in the world. Tally deserved life, love and everything in between. There was simply a small part of her, a selfish part of her - that wanted to keep her for her own. Not in that manner, not really - perhaps? She wasn’t ready to think of it then. All she knew was how she felt, what the world felt like in her presence. How she felt whole.

“Sarah,” the girl seemed to say somewhat irritibly, her voice sounding far away. “Sarah, are you listening to me?”

Sarah blinked, removing herself from her daze.

“Yes, sorry, Tally,” she mumbled absentmindedly. “I must have dozed off.”

Tally smiled at her, wringing out her hands in excitement.

“So, you’ll do it then?” she chirped, nervousness laced within her tone. “You’ll come with? Follow my request?”

“Of course,” Sarah replied without thinking - having missed out on an entire train of Tally’s rambling.

How odd a request can it be, she asked herself. Tally is sensible usually, she mused. Besides, the celebrations sound nice, she thought. It’d be a good excuse to get outside during the holiday. To actually have somewhere to go besides her room. She nodded her head decidedly, confident in her decision overall. She didn’t, however, expect Tally to react quite so emotionally. The woman in question, seemingly leaping up and engulfing her in a rather tight embrace. Sarah squirmed under the tightness of her grip, but soon found that it was not entirely unwelcome. It was nice? To be held, and to hold? She gingerly wrapped her arms around the younger woman - giving her a tentative pat on the back. Tally chuckled, her body vibrating against Sarah’s own, as she finally pulled away.

“You, Sarah Alder,” Tally laughed humorously. “Are terrible at affection.”

Sarah sulked slightly, shifting awkwardly - her head hung. It wasn’t her fault, in all honesty - such affection was a rare place within her upbringing. It was equally misplaced in war. She liked to think that she was doing well given the circumstances. Tally Craven was a whirlwind of emotions that were entirely too frightening and entirely too new. Suddenly, Tally grabbed her hand, startling her. Her soft eyes looking into the general’s sharp ones, understanding - noticing the vulnerability in their gaze.

“We’ll work on it, okay?” Tally reassured her with a smile.

“Besides,” she chirped. “You’ll have plenty of practice as my fake girlfriend for the festive season.”

At those words, Sarah felt herself tense. The pieces of what she had agreed to, falling into place.

“As your what?” she yelped in return.

Chapter Text

Sarah Alder had done a lot of things to help witchkind in her 300 years of existence. She’d killed, invaded - hell, she’d taken down countries with her own hand. She had never, however, pretended to be someone’s lover. Most assuredly not someone who was someone who she already cared for so deeply; someone who’s life was already so intertwined with her own. Honest to the goddess, what was it that Tally had aimed to achieve? How long would the charade last? What of the fall out? Had she even thought for a second before roping her into her utterly ludicrous plans?

“It’s going to work,” Tally said, as the two of them loaded their bags into the car’s trunk.

It was a bright day in December as they stood there - the light shimmering through the clouds despite the presence of the bitter cold. Sarah frowned, looking down at her friend almost pitifully. She shook her head.

“It won’t,” she muttered mirthfully, as she swung herself into the driver's seat.

Tally huffed in agitation, slamming the door as she entered. Sarah tried to feign ignorance at the niggling sensation of the younger woman and her eyes boring into her side, as she turned the key in the ignition. The car began to slowly reverse, the tension thick as they sat. Tally’s arms were crossed as she waited there, taking to glaring ahead as they made their way onto the highway. The journey itself, seeming to crawl along painfully - minutes feeling like hours as they crept uncomfortably through time. Sarah ignored the younger woman as best as she could - pretending that she didn’t hear Tally’s not so subtle sighs of exasperation every mile or so. Both were equally as indignant as the other, making for a rather difficult quest.

It was only when Tally dramatically turned off the music, claiming that she’d like to drive in silence alone - that Sarah finally snapped. They’d only been driving for an hour, yet Tally had managed to make it roughly the least pleasant hour of her life. She didn’t understand why she was acting so utterly petulant at her simple phrase. She was correct in her assumptions that people would be unlikely to believe their little charade. Tally Craven and Sarah Alder as lovers? She had never heard something so absurd. They were friends… Coworkers…. Cadet and General … This strange breach in their supposed companionship was uncomfortable, to say the least. More so for herself, the general would imagine.

She had agreed to this - explicitly only under the assumption that it was for the festive season alone. Sarah had informed Tally of such. After all, these people - Tally’s family - were her coworkers and officers alike. The whole sham was unbelievably impractical. She began to question why Tally hadn’t chosen someone unknown to them all - someone who could simply disappear at the end of the day. Begrudgingly, she found herself realising that she would not be uncomfortable with that request. She didn’t like the idea of Tally faking a romance with someone she barely knew, or with anyone really - bar, of course, herself. Perhaps, including herself - it was a stupid idea to begin with, she decided.

“Tally,” she said sternly, after the woman’s outburst began to settle. “We need to talk.”

Tally scoffed.

“No, we don’t,” she muttered petulantly in return.

Sarah found herself gripping the steering wheel tighter as they barralled their way down the road. In all her years of knowing the girl, she had never been as childish as she was behaving then. In a way, it made her question why.

“Tally, I’m not messing around here. I’m doing you a favour presently, the least you could do is give me the time of day,” she shot out rather forcefully - immediately regretting the harshness of her tone.

Tally narrowed her eyes. Ever so gingerly, pulling her cell phone from its pouch and shoving it in the general’s face. Sarah skreetched, as the car skidded to a halt at the side of the road. Heart, racing - Sarah spun around to face her friend. Her eyes, wide and mouth, gaping - as she stared at her in absolute horror.

“Tally, what the hell are you doing?” she practically yelled, her body still shaking violently as she spoke. “We could have been killed! What in the goddess’s name were you thinking?”

Tally shrank back sheepishly, feeling rather foolish in her actions.

“Well,” Alder erupted, rage flaring. “Please do explain.”

It wasn’t so much the behaviour that angered her, but the risk. That Tally would put herself in danger in that way. Regretful at her poor decision making skills, Tally flushed violently in return - barely whispering as she spoke. Alder merely glared.

“Givingyouthetimeofday,” Tally whispered embarrassingly.

“What,” the general rattled off in return, offering her no solace in her actions.

Tally breathed in, her body tensing sporadically as she shivered. It has been years since she had seen this side of the general, and it truly wasn’t her intention to bring it back. She felt incredibly stupid but equally agitated, afraid that with one wrong move she had ruined all that they had built. In a rather un-soldierly manner, she felt the tears beginning to well in her eyes. Tally barely cried in situations of confrontation, it was hardly something done at all. Especially, not now - as she was a part of the army, where such confrontations were commonplace.

Sarah noticed the shift in her demeanour, slowing the engine and parking the car. She ignored the rambunctious jeering from the cars passing by, the hooting at their position on the edge of the road. True, stopping on a highway wasn’t a regular occurrence - a minor penalty at best. But Tally breaking down in front of her, at a minor confrontation of her own hand - that was equally concerning. Equally irregular. Tentatively, she placed a hand on the trembling woman’s knee - looking at her softly as she sniffed.

“Hey,” she said gently. “What’s going on inside your head?”

Tally laughed bitterly, looking up in pitiful amusement.

“It’s stupid,” she choked out slightly, swallowing her words as she spoke.

Sarah frowned, shaking her head quickly.

“No, it’s not, Tally,” she said seriously. “It’s hurting you and that’s what matters most.”

Tally sighed dramatically, slumping back.

“No, it’s really-” she rambled.

“Tally,” the general warned, looking her straight in the eyes. “Tell me the truth.”

Tally gulped, shifting slightly in embarrassment at her own behaviour. There was a pause as she did so - both women, waiting in anticipation for others' words.

“We’re going to be late,” Tally mumbled.

“I don’t care,” Sarah replied.

Tally looked at Sarah softly, giving her a watery smile. It was in moments like these that she found herself the most questionable - the strange little pang in her heart. She was happy with Sarah, as a friend - she was everything she wanted and more. She just wished that her family could understand that - that she didn’t need anyone else. That she didn’t need this whole sham to prove that she was adult enough to succeed. Why did it matter if she had a partner anyway?

“Tally,” she heard the woman say as she thought.

“Sorry,” she mumbled in return. “I must have dozed off.”

Sarah shook her head thoughtfully, chuckling slightly at the woman’s words.

“You can’t use my words against me, Craven,” she teased. “Especially not when they got me in this mess in the first place.”

She smiled reassuringly, giving Tally yet another tentative squeeze on the arm. This, in turn, caused Tally to chuckle slightly - looking at her friend with a half-hearted grin.

“You are so bad at affection,” she laughed. “No one is ever going to believe we’re dating.”

Sarah scoffed.

“I disagree entirely.”

Tally raised a brow.

“Oh, you do - do you? Was it not only 2 hours ago that you were claiming this was all going to fall through?”

Sarah smirked, looking at Tally with a peculiar expression. It was almost mischievous, which wasn’t quite something that Tally was accustomed to seeing upon her face. It was unnerving, but equally exciting - as most things were where Sarah was concerned. Sarah chuckled as she spoke, a teasing lilt in her tone.

“Oh, it will - but not for the reasons you think. I happen to be an excellent actress - I’ve only had 300 years of training, aren’t you aware?”

She looked rather smug at her statement and Tally snorted, shaking her head slightly.

“300 years of the military, Sarah,” she popped playfully. “I’d hardly call that theatrical training. Perhaps, an elementary school play at best.”

Sarah laughed.

“I suppose,” she stated smoothly. “Though, I think it would equip me in the realm of secret keeping more so than yourself.”

Tally found herself flushing at the statement - recalling a previous encounter that they had had. It was 2 years after she had started working within the War College faculty and the relevant lecturers had chosen to do a surprise birthday party for Sarah. Apparently it was a tradition that had been carried out since the college was founded, and apparently - until Tally Craven’s arrival, it had yet to be spoiled.

Tally had all but blurted out the plans the very minute that she had come face to face with the general, only days before. Everyone had forgiven her, but it had become a standing joke military wide. Tally Craven, the girl who could tell the future but couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Or - at least, where General Alder was concerned. Tally tried to explain that it wasn’t her fault. That the general was different, and it wasn’t the same situation as state secrets - but her coworkers had only rolled their eyes. They all knew the truth about Tally’s infatuation - even if it wasn’t apparent to Sarah, or so to herself. She grinned impishly at a thought she had had, turning to Sarah menacingly.

“You know, Sarah,” she drawled, as seriously as she could possibly muster. “It isn’t only secrets that you have to hold.”

“It isn’t?” Sarah half heartedly replied.

“No,” Tally said solemnly. “You have to convince them that we’re in love.”

Sarah froze, feeling the heat rising up to her cheeks. She knew that Tally had been joking but the sentiment remained. The impossible pang of embarrassment at her lack of control over her emotions - at the emotions that Tally managed to elicit at all. She didn’t love Tally - well, she did - but, in the way that one loves all friends. Not that Sarah had had many friends, she wasn’t quite sure she was comparing this emotion to. Needless to say, it wasn’t love - it simply couldn’t be. It was too outlandish to consider. She breathed in.

“Sarah,” Tally said.

“Hm?” Sarah replied.

“We should drive,” the younger woman enunciated. “If you want them to think that you’re a good girlfriend at all.”

Sarah shook her head, tutting as she shifted the gear into drive.

“And this would be my fault, why exactly, Craven?” she queried playfully. “Surely, as your family, they are aware that you’re always late.”

Tally chuckled, sprawling herself out over the seat. Sarah looked at her out of the corner of her eye, smiling softly - a slight giddiness in her chest. Even if the relationship was just a sham, even if it was just for the season - Sarah had never felt more alive. For years, she had wanted an excuse to spend such undivided time within her company. Away from deployment, or war college - or responsibilities, at all. Just the two of them, existing - basking in each other's presence. Sarah felt her heart thump at the thought of the ending, ignoring it as she pushed it further down. She liked Tally because Tally was her best friend - her first real friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

Chapter Text

The drive down to the Cession wasn’t without issues where Tally and Sarah were concerned, but it did seem to settle down after their near death experience. Sarah refused to allow Tally to drive, not that Tally minded - as she found herself quite enjoying the uninterrupted singing concerts that she held. Sarah had never heard civilian Christmas music, which in Tally’s opinion - was a punishable offence. Thus, as her penance, for the long drive down - Sarah was subjected to album after album of classic Christmas music. She found that Tally was particularly fond of Mariah Carrey, as one of her particular songs had been played a sub-total of 6 times that day. She sighed.

Tally was dozing slightly, finally having worn off her so-called “Christmas high”, as they pulled their way down the road to the house. Sarah smiled to herself as she watched her, peeping across every so often as she drove. Tally’s mouth hung open, her limbs sprawled across the seat, as she made the most adorable noises every once in a while. Sarah didn’t dwell on the fact that she was watching her, or that she found her cute. Tally Craven was cute - this was simply a factual observation - certainly not a subjective opinion. This, in turn, comforted her as a thought.

Tally herself stirred almost as soon as they pulled into the driveway - as if she had some sick sixth sense about something. She was a knower, afterall. Her eyes shot open wide as she glanced at the house. Excitable energy, bubbling to the surface. Truthfully, even Sarah found herself intrigued. The house, or the sanctuary - as Tally called it - could hardly be called a house, at all. In true Bellweather style, it was massive. A large red brick structure, with ivy creeping up the walls and large dimly lit windows peeping out. It had only two floors, but spanned quite a distance - and Sarah found herself wondering what it would be like to have a house of her own.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford one - after 300 years of work, she certainly was not wanting for money. It was more so that there was no reason. What purpose would she have for having a house as large as this one, if it was for her and her alone. She imagined the echoing emptiness, the loneliness in the hallways and set aside the thought. At least on base, with her little room and her office - she could see people from time to time. People like Tally, who enjoyed popping in and out at random intervals - much to her own amusement.

“We’re here,” Tally chirped excitedly, as she began to bundle together the things that she had placed at her feet.

Sarah laughed.

“No, Craven,” she drawled sarcastically. “I thought we were back at base.”

Tally flushed slightly, twiddling her thumbs as Sarah parked the car.

“I was just saying, you know,” she muttered under her breath. “Since you’ve never been here before.”

Sarah rolled her eyes playfully, shifting the gear into park as she did.

“That insight would’ve been more useful an hour ago when I took the wrong route,” she snarked, but it wasn’t malicious in intent. “But someone was sleeping.”

“Hey,” Tally shouted defensively. “I was tired!”

Sarah chuckled.

“Of course, you were, Tally,” she murmured, removing the key from the ignition. “Of course, you were.”

Tally scowled playfully as they sat there. Both women, suddenly acutely aware of the charade that they needed to maintain. There was a knock on the car window as they waited. The two of them, glancing apprehensively to the side, only to realise that one was there. They waited. It sounded again after a moment, loud and insistent. Sarah and Tally exchanged a peculiar look of confusion, before a small voice piped up from the side.

“Aunty Tal!” it squeaked.

Tally’s eyes shot open immediately.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, looking at Sarah with alarm. “It’s on from now, okay?”

“What’s on?” Sarah rattled back in return.

Tally glared at her, genuinely slightly intimidating the general with her behaviour. Sarah gulped, recognising the signal.

“Right,” she said softly, attempting to mask the nervousness in her voice.

“Right, who?” Tally snapped immediately, taking Sarah by surprise.

Sarah fumbled with her words, glancing from side to side as if to search for an answer. It was to no avail. Tally scoffed slightly, looking at the general sharply.

“Right, babe,” she corrected.

“Babe?” the general spluttered. “Why on earth would I say that?”

“We’re dating!” Tally hissed.

“I don’t remember agreeing to be tacky,” Sarah countered. “Babe is so…generic.”

“Oh my goddess, Sarah,” Tally whispered loudly, anguished in her tone. “Fine, just choose something else. But, I will call you babe.”

“You will not call me-” Sarah practically screeched, as the door flung open.

A little blonde girl, probably no more than three years of age, stared back at them. Her wide inquisitive blue eyes looked at them in a manner that was almost intimidating. Despite her age, she seemed to know something - which naturally, set Sarah on edge. She smiled awkwardly at the child, giving her a wave.

“Hey there, little one,” she said softly, looking at the child cautiously.

The little girl huffed slightly, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at Sarah.

“My name is Calliope,” she muttered irritably. “And, I’m not little! I’m three!”

Sarah nodded quickly, unsure how to proceed. Tally, noticing the issue, swept herself out of the car - beckoning the general to follow her. The little girl merely watched them with a trained look of suspicion, trotting over to give her Aunty Tal a hug. Immediately, Tally scooped her up in her arms, swinging her around playfully - much to the child’s delight. Callie giggled loudly, a melodic sound as she swung - shouting out for more when Tally finally placed her down on the ground. Tally grinned.

“Look how big you are, my little Cal Cal,” she said in a soft voice, crouching down to the child’s level.

Callie flushed bashfully, swinging her arms slightly as she stood.

“Not as big as you, Aunty Tal,” she said shyly. “I missed you.”

Tally’s heart swelled at the words, engulfing the little creature in a squeeze. Sarah watched with interest as she did so, not quite having seen this side of her friend before. It was refreshing, but different - somehow it endeared her to her more. For some reason, it made her feel unusually fluttery. She shifted nervously from foot to foot as she waited - unsure why she was so intent on making such a good impression. After all, it was just a pretend relationship - they certainly wouldn’t like her after their supposed breakup.

Tally smiled as she pulled away - sweeping her eyes across to her friend, as she beckoned her closer. Soon, both women were kneeling in front of the little girl - who, in turn, was clinging to Tally like a lifeline. From the looks of things, she was more shy than usual in Sarah’s presence. Somehow, Sarah couldn’t place why.

“You’re Sarah Alder,” the little girl said after a minute, her wide eyes finding Sarah's own.

Sarah nodded.

“That I am, Calliope,” she said with a smile. “That I am.”

Feeling slightly less apprehensive about the stranger, especially considering she was friends with her Aunty Tal - Calliope stepped forward. Her eyes, roaming over Sarah’s form as if to access a threat. She frowned in anticipation, as if to question a passing thought.

“You can call me Callie,” she said suddenly. “Callie is what my friends call me.”

Sarah smiled politely, trying not to startle the girl.

“Is that what we are, Callie?” she asked. “Are we friends?”

Callie blushed, hopping slightly from foot to foot.

“Well,” she mumbled, drawing out the syllables in a sing-song type of manner. “I have never had a famous friend before.”

Sarah grinned.

“Your mommies are pretty famous though - aren’t they, Callie?” she asked, recognising the resemblance from the couple that she knew.

Callie nodded, humming to herself.

“Yup,” she popped. “But, not as famous as you. You’re like… a super legend!”

“A what?” Tally laughed.

Callie frowned, thinking.

“A super legend,” she said thoughtfully. “Like a really cool legend.”

“Do you know what a legend is, Cal Cal?” Tally asked.

Callie shook her head.

“Nope,” she popped. “But mama says it to mommy all the time.”

Tally and Sarah exchanged a weary glance at the words. Tally, snorting under her breath as she did. There was a moment of silence, as the two of them looked at eachother - simply lost in the moment - before Callie brought them back to Earth.

“Aunty Tal,” she said suddenly. “Is Sarah Alder your wife?”

The two older women swung around to look at the child in shock.

“What?” they spluttered in unison.

Callie merely looked at them with wide, knowing eyes. She nodded, proud of herself.

“I’m right,” she said solemnly. “Sarah Alder looks at you like mama looks at mommy when she wants to kiss her.”

Sarah flushed a violent shade of red. Tally stumbled over her words - unable to get a phrase in edgewise before the meddling toddler interrupted again.

“Issokay if you do,” Callie said boldly. “Mama and mommy kiss all the time. That’s what people in love do.”

Tally fumbled. She was about to interject, to explain - to clarify that her and Sarah were not in love. That they were dating, but it was new. (and fake) And that there would be no kissing in public, whether Callie was present or not. However, before she could - Scylla’s voice was audible as she came rushing out the house in search of her child. Relief, crossing her frowning features at the sight before her. As her daughter, in turn, toddled over to her with a mischievous grin. Scylla raised a brow.

“Mama,” the child chirped. “Did you know that Sarah Alder was here?”

Scylla’s eyes shot open - looking up in almost horror, almost bewilderment, as she took in the two friends, or rather - the couple - standing awkwardly off by the car. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked down at her child. Callie waited expectantly, practically itching to reveal her new found secret.

“Did you know,” she almost sang. “That Sarah Alder is Aunty Tal’s wife?”

Scylla gaped. Tally and Sarah fumbled. Without thinking, Tally raced towards her friend's wife - engulfing her in a rather awkward side hug. Scylla remained frozen, as did Sarah - as the two seemingly stared at one another in utter shock. This was not how the introductions were supposed to go.

“Hey, Scylla,” Tally said nervously, as she pulled away. “So the thing is-”

“-SCYL!” an earth shattering yell interrupted from just inside the doorway, as footsteps thundering across the hall were heard.

“DID YOU FIND THE ESCAPE ARTIST YET?” Raelle yelled, as she stumbled head on into her wife in the doorway - blushing slightly in embarrassment.

Callie smirked at her mother mischievously.

“Hi, mommy,” she said sweetly.

Raelle rolled her eyes at the girl’s antics - the child, clearly having inherited her mother’s affinity for not following the rules. She tutted softly, herding the youngest Collar into the house.

“You’re in so much trouble, kid,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Honestly, can’t you stay put for two seconds.”

“Raelle,” Scylla interrupted, looking at her wife with a serious expression. “We have guests.”

Raelle swung around with ease, scanning the driveway with curiosity - before there was a gentle tap on her shoulder. She jumped, squeaking in a very un-Raelle-like manner. An unfortunate result of the last 10 years had been her deteriorating eyesight - of which, she flat out refused to wear glasses socially. She claimed that they ‘ruined her vibe’, much to everyone’s collective disapproval. She compromised by saying that she would wear them to work - however, outside was a different ballgame. As a result, she was often surprised by people greeting her - not because she couldn’t see them, but because faces were blurry, and she wasn't 100% certain who they were until they were right in front of her.

“Tally Craven!” she yelled upon recognition of the woman by her side.

Tally grinned, engulfing her sister in a tight embrace. It lasted longer than usual, as they always tended to when they first arrived for Christmas week. It had been roughly 3 months since they had last seen each other - it had been for Callie’s third birthday, in fact. They all had come to base to celebrate - seeing it as a central point for the family at large to come together.

When they pulled away, Tally had slight tears shimmering in her eyes - for some reason, the holidays seemed to be making her emotional. Maybe it was the fact that she was lying and she felt guilty, or the fact that she was lying and she wished she wasn’t lying. Or simply, the confusion of her relationship with Sarah in general. She had told herself years ago, to keep her unrequited feelings to herself - so that Sarah could be in her life forever, rather than in a relationship for a short while. But, seeing Scylla and Raelle - so happy and in love - it made her heart pang. Not quite jealousy, but a small bitterness at what she could have had. She squandered her chance. She sighed.

“So, I wanted to tell you,” she started, but was soon interrupted by a small yet urgent voice beside her.

Callie looked at her with a devious smirk, taking her hand in her own as she glanced towards the end of the drive.

“Sarah Alder,” she called out impishly. “Why aren’t you saying hello to my mommies? You know that’s rude, right?”

Raelle blinked, not having registered the 4th person in the driveway and turned to Tally in seeming concern.

“Tal?” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

Once again, Callie took to answering for her aunt - perking up at the sound of her mother’s words.

“Oh, didn’t you know, mommy?” she said sneakily. “Sarah Alder is Aunty Tal’s wife.”

Raelle stumbled for a second, genuinely looking pale at the words. It wasn’t so much that she was against the idea - it was more so the utter absurdity of it being told by her child. The utter absurdity of the arrangement, at all. She looked at Tally meaningfully, as if to probe her with her eyes.

“What?” she said.

Chapter Text

“She’s not my wife.”

Those were the first words that escaped from Tally Craven’s mouth as she found herself being herded into the house. Despite her protests, however, apparently - this wasn’t a discussion to be taken lightly. And, as such - the entire ensemble found themselves congregated into a usually rather spacious sitting room. Now, however, it felt incredibly cramped. Tally had found herself essentially hurtled on to her so-called wife’s lap - much to their collective embarrassment. As Raelle, in turn - ran about the house in a mad dash to gather the stragglers. Even the children were included.

By the time that they had all managed to gather - it was only Petra and May who were absent. May, who would only arrive in a day or two - due to her inability to get away from work. And Petra who, in the way that Petra was, was likely planning a dramatic entrance for later that day. They were squashed far too many people to a sofa - a relatively uncomfortable squeeze. Tally and Sarah weren’t afforded the comfort of their own chair. As ‘newly weds’, Raelle teased - they ought to be comfortable being in close proximity. Sarah especially had been immensely apprehensive at these words - floundering over her statements and barely enunciating a coherent phrase. The two women, exceedingly embarrassed at the proximity - as Tally sat stiffly on the general’s lap.

Abigail and Raelle, as Tally’s sisters, took to leading the discussion. Raelle strode to the front of the fireplace, gingerly placing her arm on the mantelpiece - as if to appear intimidating - when in reality, she was simply far too short. Abigail was pacing, a behaviour rather reminiscent of the general herself. The air was thick with tension - but not quite for the reasons one would imagine. Far few were surprised by the revelation, it was more so that they were hurt. Somehow, from that one haphazard phrase echoed from the youngest Collar child - the whole house had been sent into a frenzy. Eventually, Raelle sucked in her breath. Looking at Tally with an intimidating glance, she spoke.

“Wife?” she asked.

Tally merely flushed in return.

“She’s not my wife,” she said softly, more embarrassed than she should have been.

Sarah patted her arm tentatively, recognising the flicker of fear in her eyes. She understood that for her friend - there was far more at stake. She doubted that Tally had adequately thought this through, and though she didn’t revel in the idea of fooling everyone - it wasn’t her choice to make. She smiled tightly. The edges of her lips curled uncomfortably, as if forcedly fastened in place. She took in a breath.

“Tally and I,” she started confidently.

Her body, freezing at the sight of several eyes glancing at her own. Internally, she berated herself for the anxiety coursing through her veins that was so foreign to herself usually. She was the general of an army, for the goddess’ sake. She didn’t choke up at the idea of public introduction - especially, not to those that she already knew. She flushed slightly, dipping her head with nerves. This, in turn, earned a fair few peculiar looks her way - most never having seen such a shade upon her face.

“Tally and I,” she repeated, attempting to mask her own distress. “Are dating.”

The room was silent for a moment. Agonisingly blank stares, glancing out at the general and her so-called wife. Tally and Sarah remained stiff, as if the simple act of movement might startle the crowd. Tally chewed her lip, heavily remorseful at her actions. She was about ready to continue for Sarah - who, in turn, seemed rather awkward in placement with Tally sat on her lap. It was then when a small voice perked up again.

“But,” Callie said, much to the adults' collective surprise. “Sarah Alder is Aunty Tal’s wife.”

There was a slight chuckle about the room, while Tally furiously shook her head.

“No, no, Cal Cal,” Tally corrected. “Girlfriend.”

At this, Callie looked confused. She slumped down on the floor where she was sitting - looking incredibly distressed. She opened her mouth and closed it again, unable to find the words. Everyone waited until she caught her breath - aware that she’d be upset if she was interrupted again.

“So, a girl that’s a friend? Like Mrs Peterson from school is my friend?” she asked innocently.

This practically caused Raelle to roar, earning her a swift swat on the arm from her wife. Callie looked around the room in confusion - uncomfortable and unsure why she was the butt end of the joke. Luckily, the second youngest Bellweather came to her rescue.

Aaliya, Adil and Abigail’s oldest, strode out rather confidently to her young friend’s defence. She was rather tall for a six year old, and had a way of looking down over the other children in a way that only a High Atlantic could. She stopped in front of Callie, giving her a firm look - as if to threaten the tears away. Callie gulped.

“I think I can explain,” Aaliya said, breezing her way across the room.

She stopped in front of Sarah, extending her hand as a way of greeting. Sarah raised a brow at this, but compiled all the same. Surprised by the firm grip of the rather scrawny looking child.

“My name is Aaliya Bellweather,” she said rather bluntly. “And you’re Sarah Alder.”

Sarah nodded, mildly amused by the child’s display. Aaliya turned around after saying this - looking across the room with a serious expression - her eyes landing on Callie’s face.

“Sarah Alder is Aunty Tally’s girlfriend, Callie,” she said, somewhat patronisingly. “Which essentially means that they are married but they don’t want to commit.”

Sarah and Tally gaped at the child. The room, erupting into a fit of laughter at the words. Sarah, bubbling with embarrassment - found herself tensely clinging onto Tally’s side. An action, which in turn, seemed to shock Tally as much as it did herself. Sarah was not usually one to initiate any form of physical contact, especially not in front of others anyway. She didn’t mean to do so, the words simply made her rather upset. Sarah didn’t not want to commit - she wasn’t cowardly as the impotent child seemed to imply. She had a good mind to mention as such, when a familiar voice breezed into the room.

“Hello, everybody,” Petra Bellweather said airly, as she practically floated into the room.

Sarah froze. Abigail frowned - looking at her mother with a sceptical expression. It was unusual for the Bellweather matriarch to behave in such a way.

“Hello, Mother,” she said, rather tersely at that - eyeing her with a sense of mistrust.

Petra smiled wryly at the sight of Sarah and Tally huddled upon the couch. Without commenting, she strode across the room and placed a short kiss on her granddaughter’s cheek. She stood up afterwards, straightening herself as she looked about the room as innocently as she could possibly muster. Though - everyone knew that something was inherently afoot. Petra never smiled this widely - certainly not unless it was false.

“So,” she said wryly, clasping her hands together. “What are we discussing?”

Abigail took to answering her mother - once again eyeing her with a weary expression.

“Aaliya was telling us about the fundamentals of marriage,” she said dryly.

Petra only smiled, looking around with a look of mock surprise.

“Oh dear,” she muttered in amusement. “Why ever would we need to know that?”

The room was silent. Before, as usual, Callie herself decided to interject. She had a serious expression on her face, as if trying to properly figure out how to enunciate her thoughts.

“Sarah Alder is Aunty Tal’s wife,” she said slowly. “But she doesn’t want to commit.”

Petra nodded, as Tally shrank back. Sarah simply looked increasingly aggravated by the conversation and took to sporting a rather intimidating scowl. Petra waited for a moment longer. Before, ever so smugly, turning to acknowledge the general’s presence. Her expression, nothing short of mocking in its supposed display of surprise.

“Oh, Sarah,” she said in so-called shock. “I didn’t quite see you there.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, glaring at the woman ahead.

“Yes, Petra,” she drawled sarcastically. “I’d imagine that you didn’t with the way that you so obviously avoided my line of sight.”

Petra smiled smugly, brushing off the comment as she squeezed herself onto the couch. Adil and Abigail shifted awkwardly to make room between them. Though, unusually so, Petra didn’t make a fuss - lazing back gingerly as if unaffected by the closeness. A feat that usually sent her off on a proper tyrade - and would more assuredly have caused her to kick either her daughter or son-in-law from their spot.

“What is going on with you today, Mother?” Abigail asked, tired of her peculiar facade.

Petra merely sighed, shrugging slightly - before turning to her daughter with a malicious grin.

“Only that I’m 800 dollars richer, my dear,” she said smugly. “It would put anyone in a good mood.”

Now, it was Sarah’s turn to gape. Having no inclination of where she had received the funds, it was only a natural assumption for the general to worry. Tally tried to reel her in, tightly gripping her wrist. It was to no avail unfortunately, as Sarah practically burst out her words at the other woman. Her statements, entirely nonsensical - merely coming out in a strangely fueled rage. In truth, she didn’t know why Petra set her so on edge.

“Did you rob the federal funds or something, Petra?” she bit out. “Fancy yourself a raise with all the hard work that you’ve put in?”

Petra laughed hollowly, throwing her head back in amusement. The rest of the room was silent, as the two women exchanged a rather heated stare. Petra spoke first - airly and mockingly - clarifying her previous claim.

“Oh, nothing so serious, general,” she practically purred, glancing down at her nails in amusement. “A little wager that’s been going on at War College for some time now. One that I can finally check out.”

Tally froze - suddenly, feeling increasingly hot in her positioning on her friend’s lap. She shifted slightly, but was embarrassingly held firmly in place. Sarah found her arms wrapping around the younger woman in an almost protective measure. The idea made her anxious, and in turn - she sought out comfort. Though, in truth - she herself had little idea what the bet was about. Tally was less naive - ironically so, of the way that her colleagues spoke. Though none would be so bold as to say so in front of the general herself - they were less cautious where the young Craven was concerned. She paled at the thought.

“On what?” the general asked.

Petra chuckled lightly.

“Oh, you know,” she murmured absentmindedly, gesturing slightly. “You and your wife.”

Tally flushed violently, while Sarah remained disturbingly still. Her nails, practically digging into the younger woman’s skin.

“She’s not my wife,” Sarah replied.

Tally couldn’t help it as her face fell. Even though she knew that this wasn’t real and never could be. The words cut her, imbedding painfully. Sarah’s touch suddenly lit like fire as she held her. A sense of longing for the impossible. The reality of what the behaviour meant. That the way she held her, however pleasant - was not a promise of anything to come. That when they departed from the room, all would be different - they would go their respective ways. Tally could barely hide her expression as it sank. A notion - not unnoticeable to the onlookers - most potently that of her friends. Sarah was ignorant to the change in demeanour, however - continuing ruthlessly in her questioning.

“Why on earth would you place bets?” she asked. “That’s entirely absurd.”

Petra remained unfazed, shrugging slightly.

“We were correct, though. Weren’t we?” she said rather smugly.

Sarah’s expression faltered.

“Well, not-” she started.

“-right away,” Tally finished quickly, trying to cover up the general’s slip.

Sarah frowned. Petra hummed in amusement.

“Trouble in paradise, ladies?” she said with a grin. “Although, I must say, it is rather precious that you’re finishing each other's sentences, Sarah.”

Sarah flushed uncomfortably, shifting within her position. Petra looked at them in a scarcely predatory manner - revelling in Sarah’s somewhat squeamish behaviour regarding her so-called girlfriend. Really, Petra thought to herself as she watched them - she knew that Sarah was a bit of a prude, but such things shouldn’t be so uncomfortable given one was in a relationship, right? She made a note to think on this later - eyeing the general with a sense of mistrust.

“You know, Sarah,” she said suddenly. “Some of your friends really do have a lack of faith in you.”

She grinned.

“Poor Izadora seemed to think that you’d never tell Tally at all,” she mused. “She even placed a bet that Tally would be the one to ask you first.”

She laughed.

“I, however, think that I know you a little better, hm? Your affinity for young Tally didn’t start from nowhere,” she said smugly. “I, for one, was almost certain you were going to behead me for taking away your favourite toy back… When was it now? Right! Their first year of war college.”

She smirked as Sarah paled.

“You were so very angry when I poached her on that mission for .... Nicte Batan, wasn’t it? You looked like you might wind strike me halfway to the capitol! I knew there was something deeper at play - even then.”

Sarah felt her face burning at the impact of the words. Noting the way that Tally was painfully still on her lap. Embarrassment, licking at the seams. Petra was going to be the death of her that day, and the worst part was - she couldn’t even tell her as much - without spoiling the plan, that is. She only hoped that Tally took Petra’s words with a grain of salt. She only hoped Tally would believe her. Goddess, the things that Petra was saying were humiliating, at best - and unethical, at worst. And worst of all - she was entirely correct.

Not wholeheartedly so, as she had only truly recognised and confronted her feelings for the younger woman later. And with Izadora, no less. The woman, who she now knew had squandered her trust in light of - what - some petty cash? It was darn right infuriating. She had a good mind to give Petra a piece of her mind - and to make a far speech call to Izadora, that very night. But, alas - she had to recognise why she was doing this. For Tally. For that beautiful soul, who she found herself inexplicably enamoured with. And so, reluctantly - she remained silent.

“Oh and Anacostia,” Petra was saying, much to the room's collective amusement. “Why, Sarah - your daughter has far more faith in you than anyone could ever imagine. I mean - I suppose it’s the nature of children, right? She thought you’d tell her almost immediately - 2 years tops, she claimed. I told her that that was far too optimistic, and guess who was correct now? And, all the wealthier for it too.”

She paused, chewing her lip in thought.

“It was you who told her first - wasn’t it, Sarah?” Her voice sounded tense as she spoke. “Because I swear to the goddess, Sarah Alder - if you were a coward and also lost me an additional 200 dollars - I will wind strike your girlfriend right off of your lap.”

The room was silent. Neither Sarah or Tally, knowing quite what to say. Neither of them had told one another, neither of them knew that the other loved them, at all. In a way, that made them equally cowardly, or and equally brave - depending on your perspective, really.

“She was,” said Tally after a minute, much to Sarah and the room’s collective surprise.

In all honesty, Tally wasn’t 100% certain what had possessed her to say such a thing. But, it seemed like the rational thing to do - given the scenario. She knew that it was stupid - feeling the need to protect Sarah’s dignity in such an overtly toxic masculine sort of way - but, then again, she couldn’t help it. After all, Sarah was doing her a massive favour by helping her - it seemed like the polite thing to do in return. Even if she wished it was true. Even if it wasn’t. She could feel Sarah shifting beneath her, a gentle nudge on the edge of her knee - a silent thanks gesture of thanks. She flushed bashfully as this happened, blissfully unaware of the conversation surrounding her. Only registering the chatter, a moment later than she should have. When the reality of her scenario, ignorant as she had been - finally reared it's head.

“How are you going to tell May, though?” Scylla asked.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, the complicated conversation regarding the Craven matriarch had to take a back burner that day, as the two so-called lovers were sent scurrying on their way. They were late. Given their less than timeous arrival, and the additional delay as a result of their revelation - the company as a whole were rather behind schedule. Abigail was the one to reiterate this - finally having recognised the time. The children, as she elaborated, had to go to bed. This year, preferably - Raelle had added with a grin.

“Just this way,” Tally said chirpily, as the two trudged their way down the corridor upstairs.

It was elaborately decorated, with deep red rugs and walls littered with photographs of the Christmas Weeks over the years. It was clear to Sarah, at that moment - that this was a very important season for the group. Additionally so, the house - or rather, the sanctuary - was a family place. Sarah felt her heart shudder at the thought. An unusual sense of guilt, crawling its way up her spine. Gnawing at her insecurities. Feeling out of place. Did she belong here, at all? She found herself wondering. What if her actions ruined the season? She seemed to think.

Her fears were hardly dulled by their present scenario - though, they did manage to spark some others within her mind. Tally’s room was at the end of the second floor corridor. Set with a festively painted white door, covered with sketches of holly and mistletoe - it loomed over them with an attitude of indifference - boasting the words, “Tally Craven '' in bold green letterprint. Tally looked at Sarah as they arrived, smiling at her somewhat shyly. Which, in itself, was odd, given her usual flamboyant disregard for societal rules, wherever Sarah herself was concerned.

“So,” she said, somewhat demurely - which didn’t seem quite like Tally at all.

“Shall we?” Sarah answered - unsure of the source of the woman’s supposed woes.

Tally nodded quickly, jumping slightly - as if entirely apprehensive at the words. Sarah only watched her with curiosity - the way that she scarcely froze. It was exceedingly odd, in Sarah’s opinion. She had half a mind to tell Tally as much. Tally and Sarah didn’t keep secrets - they were best friends, after all. Sarah herself couldn’t fathom what could possibly be so heinous, that would warrant this level of tension on her friend’s behalf. She waited.

Pushing the door open gingerly, Tally stepped inside - somewhat hiding her face. Sarah stepped in momentarily, marvelling at the beautifully chosen decor. It was so Tally. The bustling colours and the lights hanging loosely from the ceiling. With a wonderful mural painted on the wall. For Sarah, it felt as though she had stepped into Tally’s mind. A fantastical array of energy, to match her beautiful soul. It was breathtaking.

The only issue was - for Sarah - that she couldn’t quite see where the problem lay. It was only when she stepped in slightly further. Rounding the corner by the door, that it became truly apparent.

There was only one bed.

It was a beautiful canopy one, with festively decorated sheets and hundreds of throw pillows. But - there was still only one of them. And two women - as it seemed. Sarah wasn’t particularly uncomfortable with sharing a bed with other women. Platonically, at least. Often, on various drops worldwide, they would find themselves sharing tents. Hell, sometimes they would even have to huddle for warmth - goddess willing. This, however, was different. As, truthfully - Tally wasn’t just a friend.

Tally didn’t know this. Just like Sarah was unaware of herself, much in the same way. Still, had one of them had the insight to question - they may have had a far more potent revelation on their hands. Unfortunately - for both witches, their sight was somehow skewed in this regard. Fumbled and frozen at the feelings that they both held. The secrets that they harboured. Tally spoke first - seemingly desperately, with a tinge of embarrassment as she rattled off her words.

“I’m so sorry, Sarah,” she uttered quickly, head ducked as she spoke. “I know that there are two of us and-”

“-nonsense,” Sarah said, interjecting quickly. “There’s no issue with sharing… as friends.”

Tally flushed at the statement.

“Right,” she floundered. “Friends share things all the time.”

Sarah nodded - though, internally, she wasn’t quite convinced.

“Completely,” she added, attempting to mask the distress in her tone. “No issue at all.”

They smiled awkwardly at one another as they said this. Tally’s face, flushing crimson as she spoke. Sarah, rocking somewhat apprehensively - her hands shoved behind her back. There was a pause for a minute as they did so. Each of the two, somehow giving themselves a stern discussion within their minds. Reminding themselves of the situation. Of the lines both real and false. Of the distance that they needed to uphold, should they make it through the night.

“We better go,” Tally said shyly after a while.

The unusual sense of nervousness - still laced within her voice.

“We wouldn’t want to be late,” she added, attempting to shift the older woman along.

Sarah nodded quickly. The two, moving rather awkwardly - as if trying not to re enter into any closeness that they had had, and all that that closeness meant - at the crux of the matter.

…..

The little makeshift family always walked the length of the road to the Christmas market. Despite the nipping cold, despite the darkness gathering - it was tradition. And, most importantly - weeks like Christmas week were ruled by things just like that. Come rain or shine, they’d do it. Even if, in truth - it was never really either. It always seemed to snow.

As such, Sarah and Tally found themselves bundled up and hauled out - walking their way through the lightly laden snow. The lot would look rather like a funeral procession - if it wasn’t for Tally and the children’s brightly colored hats. Callie seemed to be struggling as she toddled along - but stubbornly - much like her mothers - she remained insistent that she didn’t need help.

“No, mommy!” she’d screeched, on more than one occasion. “I’m a big girl now! I can walk on my own!”

The issue was, that despite the theory - Callie wasn't a particularly tall child, at all. Her small little body seemed to bob along, and rather hold everyone up. It was agitating some of the older people - Petra, as a most notable example.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just pick up the damn child, Ramshorn,” she’d say every couple of feet. “I’m freezing my ass off out here, and the least you could do is help budge along the little feet.”

Scylla would sigh as she said this - gingerly, rolling her eyes.

“We are raising her to be independent,” she’d say somewhat airly.

A notion, causing Petra to scoff. Clicking her tongue impatiently, as she groaned - retorting rather petulantly.

“Well, could you raise her a little faster then?”

Suffice to say - the journey there was rather tumultuous, at best. But, as always - they arrived there in one piece. Even if the Bellweather matriarch and the ex-Spree operative had scarcely shut their mouths the entire length of the trip.

Sarah had remained somewhat silent as they walked along - her mind lost in thought. In fact, she was so busy contemplating - that she’d hardly noticed when Tally slipped in her hand into her own. Tally would say that it was for the purpose of appearances, but - truthfully - no one was really looking. Everyone seemed to be in their own world, or trying to escape the one in which Bellweather and Ramshorn existed in - at that.

The children chittered with excitement as they arrived - pulling at their respective parents with them, as they dashed towards the stalls. The Christmas market always sat in the same place every year. Rows of neatly separated inlets, spaced in rather quick succession. Stark white fabric sheets placed between them, with glistening lights and strings of tinsel strung along the top. The paths between were narrow and busy - the group having to divide and conquer, as it was.

Sarah could hardly contain her relative surprise as she took it in. Eyes, wide - glistening in the twinkling fairy lights, as she looked out over the market at large. In Tally’s opinion, she had never looked at a more radiant sight. Sarah’s hair was loose and lightly tousled - peeking out from underneath her winter’s coat. Her face was alight with almost child-like amazement. Her features, that were usually so effortlessly maintained, bursting forth freely with a massive grin.

Tally smiled at her. As she remembered her first time - the wonder that she had felt. There was something magical about the moments shared at Christmas time. And, not for the first time - Tally’s heart leapt that she could share it with her friend.

“It’s beautiful - isn’t it, babe?” Tally said - somewhat slyly, as she knew the woman’s aversion to the name.

Sarah spun around to look at her, knocking into passerby shoppers as she did. It appeared as if she was attempting to scowl at the younger woman - given the title that she had used. Alas, for Sarah - it was seemingly impossible at the sight before her. Her jaw slack. Eyes sparkling. Heart, sinking slightly at the situation that she was in. She really wanted to kiss Tally. She wanted to, but she knew it wasn’t right.

She held her breath. Shaking her head rapidly, as if to wash away any suspicious or inappropriate thoughts - she looked at Tally with the most annoyed expression she could possibly muster. Truthfully, it wasn’t quite intimidating - at all. She never was with Tally.

“Now, Tally Craven,” she drawled teasingly. “What exactly did I say about that word?”

Tally smiled widely - eyes, fluttering in supposed defence of her innocence in this regard.

“But, babe,” Tally whined. “What did I say about that one?”

At this, Sarah found herself flush - causing Tally to giggle. She assumed the blush was as a result of her excellent joke mastery, and certainly nothing else. Sarah stumbled over her words as she attempted to respond. All too overwhelmed by the bright lights, the beautiful woman and the wildly all consuming feelings that had seemingly taken root in her chest.

“Alright,” she said slowly - as if to test out the words on her tongue.

“... My angel,” she added - her face, becoming rather red as she did.

At this, Tally was stumped - a slight squeak, escaping her poorly trained throat. Sarah floundered at the sound - worrying that, at her statement, she’d somehow made a mistake. Ruined everything. Crossed a line, per say. Tally just looked at her with wide, awe-struck eyes, though Sarah - for her sins - hardly noticed. Flustered, as she was.

“Is that alright?” Sarah said, all too quickly as the heat rose up to her frozen cheeks.

She was silenced almost instantaneously though - as a hand firmly was placed in her own. Sarah felt as if her heart might explode at the proximity. Anxiety, racing. Face, flushing. Words caught in her throat. Tally smiled at her demurely - pulling her gently through the crowd.

“I think that I would be ok with that, babe,” she muttered in return.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief - allowing herself to be led for the first time in her life. She didn’t know quite where Tally was taking her - but, in reality, she didn’t entirely care. Her heart was soaring at the closeness, at the bond - whether real, or fake. She decided at that moment - that she’d likely follow Tally Craven anywhere. Even if this had been a somewhat previously acknowledged statement - despite her own lack of self respect.

“Sarah Alder!” a small voice shouted over the crowd.

Tally and Sarah exchanged a somewhat apprehensive glance - looking out over the crowd in amusement, trying to spot the little head. Sure enough, just ahead of them - there was a little person in a bright yellow coat and a fluffy white hat. Bundling her way through the crowd rather skillfully, accompanied by her squeaky shouts.

“‘Scuse me!” she’d call out.

“Callie’s coming through!” she’d shout.

Sarah found herself chuckling at the antics, despite Tally’s somewhat apprehensive face. Tally didn’t know where either of the child’s parents were, and that, in turn - made her very worried for her niece. She strained her eyes, as she looked out over the people present - bustling as they went about. However, the people in question - the ones she needed to see - were nowhere to be found.

Tally had a good mind to go and look for them as she saw this, and give them a piece of her mind - per say. Of course, Callie was the eternal escape artist, she noted. And whether she was allowed to run off - wasn’t quite clear. Tally allowed herself to put the idea on the backburner as the little girl approached. Callie, trotting up to them and looking at them with a rather mischievous grin.

“Hello, Aunty Tal,” she sang. “Do you like the lights?”

Tally smiled politely, though truthfully - she was still rather tense.

“Hey, Cal Cal,” she said softly, pulling the child a little closer to her legs to remove her from the path. “Yes, they’re very pretty.”

Callie seemed to not mind it, really - making it into a game. Weaselling her way in a figure eight around the two of them as they stood, she seemed to have an extraordinary ability to rather annoy everyone else in her path. The people around her were becoming increasingly agitated as she did so. Sarah and Tally could notice it within their frowns. The snide comments made when they thought that they were out of earshot. Callie was just a kid. Additionally, it wasn’t quite fair to blame them - given that Callie wasn’t even their own responsibility. But, then again - the strangers at the market hardly knew that.

Suddenly, taking initiative, rather uncharacteristically in Callie’s regard - Sarah bent down and swept Callie up into her arms. Holding her tightly, so she didn’t escape. Kicking indignantly, Callie whined - but at least, she was somewhat out of the way.

“Sarah Alder!” Callie cried out angrily. “That’s not nice!”

“No, Callie, it isn't,” Sarah said soothingly. “We just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? There are lots and lots of big people around here who might step on you with their elephant feet. We just want to protect you, okay?”

Callie pouted as she said this, Sarah looking at her sternly in the eye. Tally tried hard to hide her amusement at Sarah's phrase. Elephant feet, she wanted to say. She didn’t even know if Callie knew what an elephant was - let alone what size their feet may be. Still, it did warm her heart slightly - to see Sarah and Callie trying to get along. Sarah was good with children. Tally didn’t know why she was surprised. She knew that she’d been involved with Anacostia, and that she had many fosterlings back at base. Though, for some reason - she seemed to have imagined that she was more aloof in their upbringing. Estranged, in a way. Not like this.

Much to Tally’s surprise and now her duly given respect, Callie was… silent. In fact, she seemed so content with Sarah, that Tally questioned if she’d done some kind of working for her to be that way. She’d missed their little conversation previously - caught up in her musings, as she was. Though, something that Sarah had said had resonated with little Callie. Watching the way that she yawned, gingerly wrapping her arms around Sarah’s neck. Callie sighed, resting her head on the general’s shoulder. Tally held her breath.

“So, if you’re good - we’ll get you a cookie, okay?” she heard Sarah say softly.

“Kay,” Callie replied sleepily, snuggling herself against the general’s neck.

So bribery was the answer, Tally seemed to muse.

“Not tonight though, Callie?” Sarah was saying then, her voice gentle and soothing as she spoke.

“Nope,” Callie sighed. “Too much sugar. You right, Sarah Alder.”

“We’re gonna go to sleep now - aren’t we, sweetheart?” Sarah added, giving the girl a tight squeeze.

Tally saw Callie smile as she did this - her lips curled slightly in a goofy grin. She sighed sleepily. Her little hands grasping at the tendrils of Sarah’s hair hanging loosely over her back. She looked as though she was about to pass out - but, for some reason, there was something important she looked as if she needed to say.

“Sarah Alder,” she mumbled.

“Yes, Callie,” Sarah returned.

There was a pause as Callie yawned - mumbling to herself as she did.

“Can-” she said slowly. “Can you promise to always love my Aunty Tal?”

Sarah froze, as wandering little hands patted her face. Her heart, thudding nervously.

“She’s very lonely when it’s not Christmas, you know,” Callie added. “And…”

She stumbled.

“...You’re very nice, I think. I want you to be her forever friend.”

At the end of the comment, Sarah didn’t know quite what to say.

“Will you promise me, Sarah Alder?” the little voice said. "Because then, you can be my aunty too."

Chapter Text

To say that Sarah was startled by that statement, would be putting it rather mildly - Sarah was in shock. She could hardly look at Tally after Callie’s rather serious statement that she’d made, before promptly falling asleep. She imagined that Tally was feeling extremely awkward at the encounter - not unlike herself. And, as such, elected to give her space for the time being.

As Callie had taken rather a shine to Sarah’s shoulder, the parents of said menace had delegated the task to Sarah, of carrying the child back to bed. Not that Sarah minded, the further she was from her so-called girlfriend at the moment - the better. She didn’t want her to start questioning and probing - possibly revealing the very thing she had kept as a secret for quite so long. And so - as Sarah and Callie trod along slightly ahead - Tally was left behind with her sisters for the first time that day.

Scylla and Adil, an unlikely pair, had headed off slightly earlier than anticipated, with the purpose of starting the fire and putting some dinner on. Additionally - Edwin and Petra, with her hoard of husbands in tow, had elected to slink back slightly earlier as well - claiming that the cold wasn’t good for their ageing bones. Everyone knew that this was entirely fabricated - given that Petra was still active in the field from time to time. But, as usual, they let it slip. Not quite wanting to think upon what Petra and her husbands were so eager to get home and do.

Raelle, Abigail and Tally were walking slowly back - simply basking in the warmth of each other's midst. They hadn’t spoken thus far - besides a few short words to Aaliya, who kept running ahead and then back towards them again. She really had too much energy - for this time of night, at least. As the silence began to become more comfortable - and Aaliya began to settle down - the true nature of their supposed falling back was made clear, when the sisters finally spoke.

“So,” said Raelle slyly.

“Alder,” Abigail teased.

Tally herself was nothing short of mortified at the statement. Flushing furiously, unbeknownst to the others - given the darkness of the street. Tally sighed.

“Guys, can we just not please,” she seemed to suddenly beg. “Sarah is already so awkward about the whole situation.”

“Awkward, you say,” mused Raelle. “I don’t know, Abi - did she seem awkward to you?”

Abigail snickered.

“Well, I don’t know, shitbird,” she drawled. “I wouldn't exactly say that. More like …. disgustingly in love!”

Raelle and Abigail laughed, elbowing Tally as they did. Tally simply stood there silently - thoughts mulling over in her head. To her, it was exceedingly odd that her sisters seemed to think that they were disgustingly in love - given the majority of their interactions, had not changed all that rapidly from before. Tally was under the impression that they’d been doing a rather poor job at proving their status. She was terribly confused. Perhaps, she wondered - her friends were simply not fully adept at picking up on signals, it seemed. She frowned at this, as silence filled the air. Tension brewing internally, unknown to the two women by her side. Tally sighed.

“Guys,” she perked up after a moment - needing answers to her confusion riddled mental feat.

“Why do you think that Sarah and I are in love - hypothetically?” she asked.

Abigail frowned at this - looking at Tally with a brow raised in peculiarity.

“Hypothetically?” she questioned, somewhat suspiciously. “Why hypothetically? You are in love - aren’t you?”

“Yup!” Tally squeaked, the sound shooting out far too quickly to be considered anything less than ridiculous.

“She’s totally the one!” she added, smiling almost too widely to be considered normal.

Raelle nudged Abigail subtly as she did this - the two, exchanging a rather apprehensive look. Tally was hiding something, they seemed to communicate. What it was, they weren’t certain. They needed to find out.

“Ok, Tal,” Raelle said, after a minute. “So, say you two were friends.”

“Yes,” Abigail added. “So, I guess - it’d be really obvious that you were both pining or in love.”

“But, why?” Tally asked impatiently, not thinking before she did - a feat that she had often come to regret.

There was silence for a minute - as the other two women looked at their sister in bewilderment. Truthfully - they had no idea what to say. The only sounds filling the air were that of the gentle hum of cars buzzing down the street nearby. The street lights flickered as they walked, a misty haze descending due to the general chill. It was the kind of silence that would usually be pleasant - the three, close as they were. That day, however - it wasn’t. A strange sort of uncomfortability in the air. At the supposed lie, that the redhead may have spilled.

Her sisters wanted to say that they believed her. They did, honestly. It wasn’t as if there was anything that seemed to be amiss. Then again, however - Tally had her inflection as a tell. Abigail and Raelle slumped over slightly - edging from their sister unconsciously. A strange suspicion in the air. The youngest of the company, who had by then tired of her racing, decided to answer - unaware of the purpose of the older women’s silence. She was never one to keep quiet in the face of turbulent scenarios - a go getter, in that way.

“She literally looks at you like you’re her sun, Aunty Tally,” Aaliya huffed out impatiently, as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. “You’re both gross and in love. It’s disgusting. Can we change the subject now? We’re walking way too slowly, and I’m hungry!”

Chuckling at her daughter’s antics, Abigail pulled her closer uncharacteristically - as Aaliya swatted her in return. This caused the other two women to burst out into fits of giggles. Watching the way that Abigail attempted to wrangle her child, as the mother-daughter duo entered into a makeshift game of chase. Tally felt as if she was finally home.

….

“Sarah,” Tally whispered later, when the two had settled down for the night.

The dinner had been rather pleasant, but short - as everyone was tired from the day’s drive. Scylla and Adil had worked together - surprisingly well - in their moments after arriving home. The table had been set, candles lit - it was enjoyable. They’d had a few laughs, a glass of wine - or, whiskey, in the general’s case. And - on the whole, Tally felt confident that their plan was well underway, as it was. Besides her notable bemusement at the words that her sisters’ had said. She tried not to think about it.

At that moment, Tally and Sarah were in their current predicament - trying to sleep. It hadn’t been too challenging for the two to get ready together - in a way. Besides the fact that Sarah, Tally had realised - had exchanged her usual nightgown for a more raunchy set of pyjamas. In fact, they were the very set that Tally had given her as a gag gift for her birthday last year. For your sexy sleepovers, she had said - as Sarah had laughed. She had never meant for her to wear them! Goddess, she was in distress.

Still, they had settled down afterwards. Clambered under the covers, as Tally stared up at the canopy overhead. She didn’t know if the general was sleeping. It’d been roughly an hour since they’d dimmed the lights, and started laying there in a pool of darkness. Silence.

“Sarah,” Tally whispered again. “Are you asleep?”

Sarah groaned.

“You know, Craven,” she muttered sleepily. “Usually, when someone remains silent it means that they are, or, at least - pretending to be.”

Tally flushed.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I just can’t sleep.”

Begrudgingly, Sarah rolled over - still keeping her distance - as she looked at Tally from her position by her side. The general’s hair was loose - a sign of her exhaustion - as she usually wore it in a plait. She snuggled sleepily into the duvet, as she glanced at Tally tiredly. Though, she could never resist the other woman’s requests.

“Speak what’s on your mind, cadet?” she quipped.

At this, Tally laughed. Sarah smiled at the sound.

“Well,” Tally replied absentmindedly. “I was just thinking about how Callie has taken somewhat of a shine to you.”

Sarah smirked at this - looking rather smug as she rolled over again. Her eyes, glancing up at the canopy above. An action, mirroring the woman by her side. They lay there in comfortable silence, before Sarah spoke again.

“She has now, hasn’t she,” she mused.

Looking at Tally from the corner of her eye, watching her as she spoke - gauging her reactions.

“I wonder what gave you that impression, Craven,” she stated somewhat sarcastically. “Was it her leaching onto me at the market, or not allowing me to leave her alone until she was fully in bed?”

Tally huffed, swatting Sarah playfully - causing her to yelp rather uncharacteristically in return. Sarah huffed, raising herself up onto her elbows sleepily, as she looked at Tally with a supposed frown.

“And what was that for, Officer Craven?” she spluttered in mock duress. “You know that attacking your superior officer is rather rude - and you’ve already done it once before! I’m starting to see a pattern here.”

Tally scoffed, patting her head in a friendly manner - causing Sarah to sport quite a bashful flush. She hated how easily the younger woman could toy with her - even when she thought that she had the upper hand. It was as if every action undertaken by the redhead had a violent reaction within her mind. Not violent, as in dangerous - more so, as explosive. Sarah sighed.

“There’s no need to be such a baby, Sarah,” Tally mumbled mischievously. “It was just a little pat on the head.”

“A baby?” Sarah admonished. “Why, I’m-”

“-over three hundred years old,” Tally injected teasingly. “Yes, Sarah - I’m well aware of your age.”

Sarah sulked, slumping down petulantly.

“Well, you could at least try to justify your actions,” she muttered.

Tally snorted.

“Fine then, babe,” she quipped, earning a glare from the woman at the word’s usage.“I was simply defending my niece's honour - since you were being rather unfair.”

“Unfair!” Sarah squeaked, in a rather un-general-like sort of manner. “I love your niece!”

“Good,” Tally grumbled. “Because she loves you too.”

There was silence for a minute after she said this. Sarah, rather bewildered by the intonation of the other woman’s phrase. Was she upset about that? Sarah wondered. No, she thought mindlessly - that didn’t make sense. Tally herself huffed grumpily, swinging around to face the other edge of the room. Leaving Sarah, and her relative confusion - awkwardly glancing at a pile of sheets that were quite suddenly bundled in her face. It was only when Tally groaned subsequently - annoyance, riddled in her tone. That - for Sarah, it became all too clear, just what she was upset about. She grinned widely.

“Oh my goddess,” she teased ruthlessly. “Tally Craven, are you jealous?”

“No!” Tally retorted - though she didn’t turn to face her side.

“Callie’s my niece,” she continued, somewhat defensively. “You’re just… a new bright and shiny toy! She’ll come to her senses soon enough.”

Sarah snorted.

“Sure, Miss Craven,” she drawled sarcastically. “You’re not possessive, at all.”

Tally grumbled - turning to look at Sarah with a scowl. Sarah only smiled smugly in amusement at the actions. She often found Tally’s anger, when it wasn’t quite serious - amusing. There was a certain expression that she held, that would show that she wasn’t really upset. A crinkle on her nose, of sorts.

“I’ll have you know, Sarah,” Tally said, in a sort of playful patronising tone. “Callie is the one who is possessive of me, and not the other way around.”

“Ah,” Sarah said slyly. “So, you’re one who likes to be possessed.”

Tally’s entire face went blood red in embarrassment at the words. An uncomfortable wedge of arousal, dipping between her thighs. She buried her head in the pillow before the general could notice anything - humiliated, as she was.

“Stop that, Sarah,” she mumbled through the pillow. “That’s very rude.

“And,” she added, as she finally looked up again - though never directly at the older woman’s face. “Stop calling me Miss Craven - that’s my mother’s name.”

Sarah smiled shyly at the interaction - shifting slightly across. The two, rolling over onto their backs as they did - glancing up at the ceiling in a contemplative sort of way. There was a comfortable silence between them - childish antics aside. And, for the first time that evening - Tally actually felt sleepy. Safe. warm. Protected. She really wanted to roll over, take the general by the face and kiss her. Softly, slowly - letting her know how much she meant. She sighed defeatedly, as she thought this - pulling the covers up to her face.

“Your mother doesn’t like me - does she, Tally?” the general asked suddenly, breaking the silence as she did.

Tally sighed. She really didn’t want to have this conversation - especially not in the middle of the night.

“It’s complicated,” she said.

“As am I,” Sarah replied.

Tally was silent for a moment - mulling over the situation at hand. Sarah, less patient than she was, spoke again - before Tally herself could get a word in edgewise.

“Why did you choose me?” the general asked.

She sounded almost defeated as she spoke. A hollow feeling in her chest. Loneliness. Regret.

“I know that I’m a controversial figure publicly,” she continued. “And additionally so - the things that I’ve done. And the Spree with Batan and-”

“-Sarah,” Tally interjected warmly. “You know I don’t care about all of that.”

She paused for a minute, not daring to look across lest her friend see the vulnerability in her gaze.

“I love you,” she said suddenly.

And then, added. “As a friend, I mean - of course. The thing is… with you. Yes, you are complicated. Yes, my family is too. Yes, it would be easier to have brought someone disconnected from the situation, that I could toss away after the season. But…”

Her voice got softer, as she spoke. As if the words, she was yet to say - were more damning than the ones she’d said before. As if she was fearful. She froze.

“You’re my best friend in the whole world, Sarah Alder,” Tally said. “My favourite person.”

She laughed lightly as she spoke - but it was choked, as if she was holding back some of her words. Caught carelessly in the mess of her own creation. She didn’t know what to say.

“Aaliya made a joke earlier that you look at me like I’m your sun,” she mumbled.

Sarah herself flushed at this, unbeknownst to the other woman. The woman, who - in turn, was more distracted by holding her own feelings at bay. An odd sort of situation - neither being fully transparent - yet, not quite hiding, at all. As if the veil of their own humiliation was enough to mask the appearance of another’s love. Tally bit her lip, thinking.

“But, you know what,” she said, somewhat apprehensively. “She’s completely and utterly right. Not about you-”

She stammered. Her voice, quivering a bit.

“I mean- I don’t know-” she said.

Her voice, seeming to become more pitchy as the conversation went on.

“The point is that, you’re my person… My friend. My best friend! It took us a hell of a long time to get here, and excuse me for saying this - but I’m tired of you being perpetually alone.”

She smiled somewhat shyly - again, unnoticeable to Sarah. The darkness of the room, acting as a buffer to shield the words that they truly wanted to say.

“You’re amazing, Sarah Alder. Like,” she laughed. “Probably the greatest witch of all time. And on top of that - you’re just wonderful to be around.”

She raised herself up on to her elbows, looking down at Sarah with a half hearted grin. Sarah’s heart was racing as she did this. A consistent thud, thrumming like a warning drum. She felt herself flustered and fumbling - lost for words. Lost in the moment. Lost in Tally’s gaze. As if, just for that brief second - the world was made up of no one except them.

“I just want the rest of the world to see you like I do,” Tally said quietly - afraid of what the implication might have implied.

She waited in seeming agony. The room was silent. Tally's heart, racing - not quite sure if her statement had been poorly received. Or worse, out of line.

“Don’t you want that too, Sarah?" she asked eventually - looking across at the woman by her side.

At the end of the day, Sarah Alder did.

Chapter Text

“Tally May Craven!”

A shrill sounding voice called out the following morning, as Sarah and Tally lay in bed. The consistent thud of the person’s footsteps, trampling timeously down the corridor. Tally was asleep. After their impromptu late night conversation, Tally had eventually drifted off - prior to Sarah, much to her surprise. The younger woman curled unconsciously against her friend’s side. It was peaceful.

Sarah had wanted to move her. She had wanted to, yet she didn’t. The reasons were somewhat unknown to the universe, or to Sarah herself. She knew that she really ought to move the younger woman - lest she decide to roll over and realise where she was placed. Yet, somehow - in the silence, in the closeness - in the moment of her fiery hair, ticking just under her nose. In her breath, encasing her features. Somehow, Sarah was content. Peaceful. Relaxed. That was perhaps the most damning realisation of all.

That morning, however, after Sarah herself had fallen asleep - somewhere in the nightly migration, in the chill of the room - the two had sought out eachother’s warmth. Limbs, entangled. Tally’s head, resting in the crook of Sarah’s neck. A lover's embrace, in a way. Truthfully - if either of them were to wake up, they would likely freeze in apprehension. That is, if waking up at that moment, had been up to them at all.

May Craven stalked down the corridor with a spring in her step. She was excited, nervous - yet equally pleased. There was a new car in the driveway. One that she had yet to catalogue as belonging to any of the usual Christmas Week goers. One that she hoped belonged to a man, who in turn - had stolen her daughter’s heart. Who would put an end to her constant worries over children and marriage - and all the things that mothers seem to muddle over at their children’s lack of action. Motivation, in a sort of way.

Now - May wasn’t an unpleasant woman - not inherently, at least. Sure, she had had her moments of misjudgement when it came to her daughter’s past. But - on the whole - after the years of fighting, war changed a person. And in the case of the Craven family, it had brought them closer together. Strife had a peculiar way of doing those things. The only cause of their current grievances was the young woman’s inability to settle down. To have a family, May would say.

May had not been with a man since she had had her daughter, and frankly - she didn’t see why it was so hard to choose. She understood that for her - for Tally - she wanted the whole nine yards. That magical form of love. Romance. May often scoffed at the notion - love, she often thought to herself, was a fickle thing as ever. Best not to be trifled with at the most pleasant of times, and certainly not otherwise.

Naturally, as soon as she arrived, giddy at the prospect of her daughter finally having found this strange and foreign form of companionship - she had taken off. As usual, Petra was in tow. During the Christmas Week, Petra always followed May everywhere she went - always lending her a hand. It was sweet, in a way. May had never really had anyone who did that. She assumed that it was simply the way that Petra was somewhat designed to be. Dutifully gracious and always happy to help. Happy to stand up and argue on her behalf. She found that she enjoyed Petra’s presence rather a lot. Even if - her hoard of 3 charming husbands sometimes set her on edge.

“Surely, we should wait until she’s awake,” Petra seemed to bargain, as they walked down the hall.

“Nonsense,” May had muttered, almost instantaneously. “Why should I hold back from seeing my daughter when it has been almost half a year!”

At this, the two exchanged a somewhat amused glance.

“It’s only been three months, May,” Petra giggled - in a way that was entirely unlike Petra at all.

May grinned.

“Don’t you tell me what I can and cannot do, General Bellweather,” retorted May cheekily. “I can always return your christmas gift.”

“No!” whined Petra petulantly, in a tone of voice that was notably reserved for May alone.

The entire interaction seemed wholly uncharacteristic to anyone who knew them. Mostly that of the Bellweather matriach - usually ever the mark of composure and stoic to a point. Only really breaking her uptight demeanour at the onslaught of her discomfort or distress. In anger, and not in glee.

“Well,” Petra added somewhat apprehensively. “If I could just have one last little request.”

May looked at her with a raised brow. Suspicious at the woman’s behaviour. She frowned.

“Well go on, Grandma Petty,” May muttered teasingly. “I don’t have all day.”

Petra winced, but let it go. Everyone knew that she disliked the reminder of her age. Aaliya’s ridiculous title for her had been bestowed when she was only three, and Petra had forgiven her for that. But - she had also been explicit that that title was for her and her alone. Still - in moments of weakness, and in that of teasing - sometimes, the others brought it out. Usually, she would scold them. Usually, she’d be upset. Alas, with May - that never really happened - in a peculiar sort of way.

“Just,” Petra said softly. “Have an open mind.”

At this, May frowned - looking at the other woman with marked curiosity and simultaneous distress. She knew that there was something that she wasn’t telling her.

“Alright,” she said curtly. “If that’s all you have to say.”

The words themselves, uttered mere seconds before the breakdown, as May Craven pushed open the door. The sense of excitement and bubbling apprehension, crashing in reprieve. She shrieked.

“Tally!” she yelled.

Her eyes, practically bulging at the onslaught, at the picture before her eyes.

“What,” she gritted out angrily. “Is Sarah Alder doing in your bed?”

Tally, for her sins, didn’t quite react to the statement. Sleepily turning over, practically caressing the general as she mumbled.

“Sleepy. Mom - go away.”

May let out a little gasp, wholly indignant at the interaction - as she stalked over to her daughter’s side of the bed. Whipping the duvet rather violently off the sleeping secret keepers, as she yelled out in marked rage.

“Sarah Alder! Tally Craven! Get your asses out of bed this instant!”

The room was silent for a minute. Sarah and Tally, lazily opening their eyes, as the light from the open doorway seemed to hit them with all the fire and vengeance that the Tally’s enraged mother had in store. They froze for a minute - glancing down awkwardly at their intertwined limbs. Tally, immediately jumping back in return, as she noticed her hand seemingly fondling the general’s scantily clad chest. They were mortified.

“Mom?” Tally called out in confusion, struggling to rationalise the situation at hand.

May only huffed.

“Don’t you mom me, young lady,” she scolded uncharacteristically. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Tally blinked, not quite registering the situation. Her mind, still fumbling with its sudden broken rest. She frowned.

“What?” she mumbled in confusion.

May was livid. Dangerously silent at the statement, as she allowed Tally a moment to take in her surroundings. Whether it was given, or dangled as a form of bait - was debatable notebly. May seemed to watch Tally and Sarah simultaneously. Her eyes, flickering like a hawk between their respective bewilderment ridden gazes. Suddenly, in a newly born understanding though - Sarah paled.

“Miss Craven,” she stumbled hopelessly. “I am so sorry that you found us-”

“Save it,” May interjected callously. “I would have expected something like this from the likes of you.”

At this, Sarah went silent. Seeming to shrink into herself in seeming embarrassment and subsequent hurt - even if she knew the reason for the woman’s statement. She had known that May disliked her - Tally’s hindrance of mentioning as such aside. She supposed though, that she hadn’t expected her to be quite so cruel. True - she had heard the stories from Tally of her hard handed comments regarding her decision to enlist. And - she knew that she was traumatised. But - all in all, Sarah had expected to at least be nice. Kind. Compassionate. The sort of woman that Tally herself was. The kind that she would have expected to raise her. She frowned.

Tally watched the interaction with blankly noted confusion and uncomfortability in the same vein. A sudden pang, withering in her chest. She hated when her mother was like this. Like she had been for those few troublesome years. Tally had thought that she had moved past her anger - the grudges. The unkind words that she had spoken thoughtlessly - unquestioning of the older woman’s situation - much like Tally had been the same.

“Mom,” she said suddenly, surprisingly both her friend and mother alike. “Don’t speak that way about Sarah.”

May’s forehead crinkled into a disgusted crease.

“Sarah,” she mocked. “So now you feel the need to defend her because she’s your little girlfriend.”

She stepped closer, somewhat menacingly - as she added.

“Do you even remember who she is?’

Tally froze, looking across at her friend in seeming desperation - only to be met with a stoney gaze. Sarah was broken by the statement. Silent. Reserved. Not an emotion, shooting over her face. Tally wanted to scream at her mother for that alone. Knowing how long it had taken for Sarah to climb out of that perpetual shell in which she resided. How important it had been for them - for her. Now - it was almost as if it was for nothing. As if - in one foul swoop, her mother had made it her mission to mutilate the solace that they had found. Not only within themselves, but within each other. Almost dangerously, Tally growled.

“You don’t get to say that,” she muttered angrily. “You don’t even know Sarah, at all.”

“That’s right,” May retorted. “I don’t know Sarah. I know General Alder - the woman who murdered my family and drove us into extinction.”

Tally was furious, practically quivering with rage at the statement.

“That wasn’t her fault,” Tally hissed. “It never was. It never will be. And you cannot - you will not - blame her for things out of her control.”

“But-” May interjected.

“No,” Tally returned, uncharacteristically confident in her confrontation.

Usually, with her mother - she found it easier to run away. May had always been an astutely emotional person, much as Tally was in the same way. However - the difference came in their actions. In the way that May used her emotions as a form of manipulation to wield. Tally knew that arguing with her was usually fruitless, especially then - regarding this topic. But - for some reason, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stand down. Not then - for Sarah. The woman who she loved, well - she said that she liked - even if this was only a half truth.

Tally had watched Sarah grow over the last decade, learning to be human again. Learning to live, to breathe - to exist without the confines of duty and perfectionism alone. It was true that Tally herself had blamed Sarah for many of her actions, but that was before. Not now - as she had spoken, healed and guided the woman on her way. There were so many things that the older woman had left unspoken. So many memories - both traumatic and wonderful alike - that the world was unaware of. That she had been unaware of - much like May.

She turned to her mother as she thought this. A flicker of determination, simmering in her gaze. She was ready.

“What is your issue with this relationship?” she asked.

May looked at her with a scoff.

“Please,” she said. “As if I even need to justify that with a response.”

“Then do,” Tally replied bluntly, startling her mother. “I’ll wait.”

Though she didn’t look at her, Tally reached over a tentative hand as she said this - clasping Sarah’s in her own. She could almost feel the fear under her fingertips. Sweeping her thumb softly over the older woman’s hand, as they remained intertwined. She didn’t look at her. Not because she didn’t want to, but rather - because she desperately did. Tally knew that Sarah was upstanding - that she wouldn’t want Tally to be her knight in shining armour. After all - that usually was more of her role. Frankly though, Tally didn’t care. Sarah deserved better than this slander.

“She’s so much older.”

Was the first statement from May’s supposed list of grievances at her daughter’s chosen girlfriend. In all honesty, Tally snorted at the statement. May looked appalled.

“Sorry,” Tally giggled slightly. “It’s just that - she’s kind of beyond that, you know? Like older is relative to human years, she’s literally over 300. No one in existence is really an appropriate age for her. What’ll you have her do - die lonely?”

May sniffed, bristling slightly - but nodding curtly at the words.

“Fine,” she said coldly, seemingly put out by her lack of support. “But - that doesn’t change the fact that she’s your boss.”

“Please,” Tally retorted. “Be serious for once.”

Her mother was not amused.

“I don’t see why this is so unimportant,” she said curtly.

Tally scoffed.

“I’m just saying - half of the witches on base are banging each other at regular intervals. What’ll you have us do all year round when we don’t have Beltane?”

At this, May looked mortified. Sarah was embarrassed. And suddenly, recognising the impact of her statement - Tally flushed a fiery shade of red.

“Not that-” Tally stuttered awkwardly. “Not that- Um- Not that Sarah and I- That we- I mean-”

“Stop,” May injected quickly, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I don’t need to- I don’t want- Can we please just change the topic?”

“Gladly,” Tally mumbled.

“Sorry,” she added quietly.

May nodded awkwardly in return, looking to the side. There was an agonising pause, as they waited. May, seeming to mull over a certain statement in her head. Eventually, she looked up at Tally, still somewhat angry but mostly relatively calm, as she asked a rather burning question.

“I just thought that you liked boys, Tally,” May mumbled softly. “Not that I have an issue with it - it’s just after that first Beltane, you were so mad about them. It’s just surprising.”

Tally sat stiffly - eyes, glancing everywhere but her mother. She sighed.

“I know,” she said slowly. “I did… I do… It’s just Sarah and well…”

She looked up at her mother almost pleadingly, as she added.

“Well, you of all people should know.”

To her mother’s mortification, Petra herself seemed to pipe up at these words. Squeaking rather uncharacteristically, as she asked.

“What?”

May looked at her like she was asking her something so completely uncomfortable. As if Petra’s simple ‘what’, had been a request to catalogue her entire sexual history - kinks and fetishes included. She was extremely embarrassed. Sporting a rather bashful shade of red, as she mumbled softly.

“Well, I do have a sort of fondness for women.”

Petra’s eyes went wide at the statement. Tally cackled uncharacteristically. A feat that caused practically everyone to glance at her in confusion.

“Fondness,” Tally squawked. “You had a new girlfriend every few months.”

May glared at her coolly. A look, that for some reason, made Petra seem to avert her eyes.

“I have changed,” May hissed. “It’s not my fault that I was popular at the compound.”

“Well,” Tally retorted slyly - grinning at her mother at the statement. “Sarah has changed too. Perhaps, we can both learn from one another - in a way.”

Finally having overcome her muteness, Sarah’s eyes raised at this statement, looking at her friend in wild astonishment and simultaneous humiliation. Tally really didn’t think before she chose to speak.

“Tally- Angel,” Sarah whispered quietly, squeezing her friend’s hand as a form of warning. “I think you’ve said enough.”

Chapter Text

The room was quiet after May departed, excusing herself to go and unpack her bags. Tally was nervous. The two fake lovers perched precariously on the edge of the bed, in awkward anticipation of what was yet to come. Sarah wasn’t speaking. This alone seemed to set the younger woman on edge. Tally’s heart, thumping uncharacteristically loudly at that moment - thrumming in her ears like a warning gong. She wished that Sarah would just say something. Yet - unusually so, Sarah was silent.

Tally looked across to her every few minutes, feeling the sweat caught between their palms at the palpable anxiety that she felt. Fear that Sarah likely knew of, yet ignored. Why she did, Tally was uncertain. She was beginning to realise that there were perhaps things about Sarah that she was unaware of. That vulnerability regarding her mother both that day and the night before - she knew that Sarah had been hurt by it. Usually, she wasn’t. Usually, it wouldn’t have mattered. This wasn’t real, after all. Why did it hurt her?

“Sarah,” Tally whispered, after a minute - her wide eyes, searching the older woman’s face. “Are you ok?”

Sarah stared at the floorboards, unspeaking. Tally sighed.

“I know that I might have been out of line,” she started sheepishly. “By defending you and saying all that stuff, but my mom wasn’t being fair. You don’t deserve that. I couldn’t let it-”

She stopped. Her words suddenly caught in her throat. Surprisingly, though - Sarah smiled. Her eyes still trailed straight ahead of her. A sense of nervousness in her behaviour that Tally couldn’t quite place. She looked up at Tally. The glance, shimmering with words unspoken - agonisingly tantalising her, as she gazed at her lips. Her heart, swelling without questioning as she did. A slight pang that she felt in her presence. Regrettably, she looked down - trembling slightly, as she spoke.

“Thank you,” she said, ever so softly - the words barely above a whisper. “No one has ever done that before.”

Tally was stumped. Eyes wide at the statement, as she appraised the woman with confusion.

“What do you mean?” she questioned, her voice quivering slightly as if uncertain what entirely that statement had come to mean.

Sarah sighed sadly.

“Defending me,” she clarified.

Subsequently adding, somewhat humorously. “Usually, it’s the other way around.”

Tally chuckled, feeling a slight sense of pride at her statement. Cheekily, she gave Sarah a little nudge - leaning into her side playfully. Sarah blushed.

“Well, babe,” Tally said, softly yet teasingly. “It’s what you deserve.”

At this, Sarah was starstruck.

…

A few minutes later, after the two had managed to secure themselves in slightly more appropriate sets of pyjamas for the cold - they walked downstairs. Hand in hand, unconsciously - given their previous talk. The chatter of the family, curling its way up through the hallways as they wandered. Laughter, ringing in their ears. Sudden shouts of indignation from Aaliya and little squeals on Callie’s behalf. Eventually, they found them in the kitchen.

Adil was standing breathlessly in the doorway, attempting to evade the prying little hands. Callie was jumping up petulantly, as Aaliya eyed her father with a sense of vengeance. Sheets of gingerbread with packets of sweets and candies lined the counter, in preparation for Tally’s usual request. Evidently, his morning had been equally eventful.

On the second day of Christmas week, Tally and the kids would make gingerbread houses - a competition of sorts. Callie and Aaliya had their own houses, and Tally would help them as they worked. While the grandmothers and grandfathers, would create their own in the other room. They called it - the battle of the ages. The young versus the old, with the parents as judges. Somehow, the children always seemed to win.

Edwin had a knack for spoiling his, and the Bellwether husbands were far too meticulous. The three, never quite agreeing on a single design, and rather like the fairy godmother’s in the Disney Sleeping Beauty movie that Aaliya so liked to watch - they ruined it. May and Petra's, was often slightly better - but usually not by much. The two seemed to distract each other in a perpetual sort of sense, that often left them pressed for time. Tally and the children were serious about the competition, and they always won. Or, at least, they always had for the last 6 years - ever since baby Aaliya had arrived, and placed a single candy on their masterpiece.

“Aunty Tally,” Aaliya breezed suddenly, ignoring Sarah entirely - as she dragged her aunt into the kitchen. “Thank the goddess you’re here! This morning has been a nightmare! You won't believe the things that I've had to do.”

Sarah raised a brow, attempting to hide her amusement at the genuine distress that the 6 year old was harbouring. As Tally attempted to soothe her niece, and Adil skillfully diverted the ingredients on the counter - Callie’s wide eyes noticed Sarah in the doorway. She squealed, running towards her excitedly. So fast that she almost tripped over her own feet. Her tiny little body, barreling towards the general, before wrapping itself around her legs with a strangely tight squeeze.

“Sarah Alder!” she chirped. “I knew you’d stay!”

Sarah glanced down at her in amusement, ruffling the kid’s hair as she clung to her. She chuckled.

“Well, where did you think I’d go, sweetheart?” she chuckled. “I was just in Aunty Tally’s bed.”

Adil froze rather awkwardly at the statement. Moving slower than usual, as he attempted to sort the remaining ingredients onto their relative trays. Rationing them, in a way. So that it was equal and fair, and his mother in law and daughter wouldn’t descend into a frenzy of indignation over the unfairness. Loudly, Callie sighed.

“Well,” Callie mumbled thoughtfully, as she looked up at Sarah with her big emotional eyes. “I was scared that you were a dream.”

Sarah smiled softly, scooping the young girl up into her arms. Callie giggled, throwing her arms around Sarah’s neck, as she snuggled into her shoulder. She hummed to herself thoughtfully. Little hands, clasping at the loose tresses of the general’s hair, as if they were her own private form of amusement. Truthfully, Sarah didn’t mind.

“You’re my favourite, Sarah Alder,” Callie said absentmindedly, after a minute - as she tugged at the older woman's tousled strands. “I’m glad you’re Aunty Tal’s wife.”

Evidently, the conversation from the day before had not seemed to stick - but truthfully, Sarah didn’t have the heart to correct her. In a way, she thought that she would like to be Aunty Tal’s wife. A part of this family, in a way. It left her rather bitter in reprieve. If only she had had the confidence to tell Tally years ago - perhaps, that was exactly where they would have been. Her face seemed to fall, as she thought this. Callie’s babbling, falling on broken ears. She lost herself.

Tally noticed, as she often did. Unwinding herself from Aaliya and her nervous sense of excitement, as she crossed the room to where Sarah stood. She heard Callie rambling on about favourites, and Sarah Alder - and additionally, Aunty Tal’s wife. She smiled at the statement, though Sarah seemed distant. Eyes, hazy, as if lost in the emptiness. Tally was determined to bring her back.

“Your favourite, huh?” she said, mock hurt biting in her tone at her niece’s words. “I thought that was me, Cal Cal.”

Callie crinkled up her face in distress at the statement. Looking as if she was contemplating deeply on her choices as she mumbled.

“Bu- But I love you, Aunty Tal. Sarah Alder is just my best friend. You’re- You’re my family.”

Tally smiled, stepping closer and ruffling the little girl’s hair.

“I love you too, my little Cal Cal,” she mumbled softly, as she pressed a quick kiss on the little girl’s cheek.

Callie went red at that moment, fumbling to wipe the remnants of affection off her face - as she muttered something along the lines of ‘gross’, as she did so. Tally only giggled, rocking slightly - as she glanced at Sarah. Noticing the hollow look in her eyes. The distant sort of gaze that seemed to linger, as if in that moment - she wasn’t quite present. Never really there. Without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss on the older woman’s forehead. Blushing rather bashfully, as she added.

“It’s okay, Cal Cal,” she said, almost shyly. “Sarah Alder is my favourite too.”

In an instant, Sarah flushed violently. Her eyes, seeming even more distant than before. Not out of anxiety this time, but out of panic. Her heart, thudding violently in her chest. Tally Craven had kissed her. Her forehead... but that was still her. And - she didn’t really have to. She had though - why? There was no one really there. Well, there was Adil and the children, Sarah noted. But - they hardly counted. The children were convinced, and Adil seemed disinterested. Which left her with the burning question of - why?

Was it to comfort her? Sarah wondered. Did Tally see her spacing out and try to bring her back? It was sweet, but unnecessary - equally so, her methods were rather odd. People don’t go about kissing their friends foreheads - dissociation or no. It had to have meant something. She hoped it had meant something. What if… No, she couldn’t consider it. She didn’t want to, not unless she was wrong. For - if she was wrong, she’d ruin everything. Suddenly, the world was blurring again. Noises in static. Floating in reprieve - before she heard a familiar voice behind her back.

“Trouble in paradise, ladies?” Petra mused.

At this, Sarah kicked herself. Because - of course, Tally had done it to protect herself. Their secret. Why would she ever consider it otherwise? Petra had likely been standing there the whole time. Watching them carefully, in that vulture like manner, trying to find a weakness. All while she had been distracted. All while Tally had protected them. Like she protected Sarah. Like no one else had. It hurt.

“As cute as this is,” Petra drawled, in seeming boredom. “I have a competition to win.”

Sarah flushed in inadvertent embarrassment at the statement. Still rather hung up on her previous misdealings, as it was. Callie shifted in her arms, wriggling wildly, as she turned to the Bellweather matriarch with a stiff glare. Petra chuckled in amusement.

“I am going to win this year,” Callie said confidently, giving her best impression of intimidation at the statement.

Petra laughed hollowly.

“Please, Callie,” she muttered mirthfully, as if Callie was far more of a viable enemy than her three year old form could possibly possess. “I will destroy you.”

“No!” Callie squealed indignantly. “I will destroy YOU!”

“Will you now?” Petra mused. “I’d like to see you try, little one. Aunty Tally can’t save you this year.”

Surprisingly, however - Callie grinned. Dangerously sly in her behaviour as she stated.

“She can’t, but Sarah Alder can.”

Sarah had no idea what she was in for.

Chapter Text

The battleground was set, as the tables were laid, and the competitors glared at one another across the sitting room. May and Petra stood in the corner, dressed in matching aprons - a lacy type of red thing that Petra certainly had not picked. But, she wore it all the same, as she did every year - whenever May decided to ask her. It was tradition, after all - or so she said. One could never be quite certain with Petra.

Meanwhile, off to the other side - Scylla had been elected as Edwin’s helper this year. The two, muttering intently, as if strategizing for war. A sight that had Raelle chuckling, and Abigail rolling her eyes, as she looked at her own fathers’ in absolute agitation. The three were clucking about like hens, as they fussed over the starting line. Never seeming to be able to agree on a singular design. No different than any of the previous years, anyone would mention.

The real change, however, was on the opposite side of the room, where the children and their teammates were rearing for a start. Ready to dash through the doorway at the sound of the first bell. Their stations were situated in the kitchen - a natural decision, of course. For - as children, they were bound to make some sort of mess. Unlike the adults, or - so they liked to claim. Even though Petra had started an icing war in Aaliya’s fourth year, unfortunately doing irreversible damage to the paintwork, back when the house was only new. But - no one liked to bring that up anyway. It had been a strange year, all in all.

Aaliya and Tally stood whispering to one side. Eyes, flickering every so often, as they strategized the ideal way to shape their house. Weighing up weaknesses, as they glanced at the other’s ingredients. They were rather serious about the competition, after all. Callie and Sarah were less phased, or rather - phased in a different manner, as Callie had decided they had to be matching that day. Still clad in pyjamas, with sparkling reindeer horns on their heads that jingled every time they moved - they were ready. Or, at least - Sarah had thought they were. Callie was less convinced.

“What about noses?” Callie chirped, as she looked at Sarah intently.

Clearly becoming increasingly irritated by Sarah’s distracted behaviour. For the last hour - while they set up, Sarah had been sneaking glances at Tally every so often. Her mind, still reeling from the kiss. To anyone else, it wouldn’t seem peculiar - they were dating, after all. But, then again, Sarah was mortified at the idea of Tally seeing her. Knowing her. Or at least - knowing how impactful that simple touch of her lips had been. It was terrifying. Callie huffed.

“Sarah Alderrr,” she groaned loudly, catching the room’s attention. “I wanna know if we need a red noseeee!”

Sarah blinked, flushing rapidly, as she noticed that Tally was looking her way. Callie only grumbled at the onslaught - glaring at her.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” she cried angrily, stomping her foot. “I wanna win the competition, and- and we can’t win, if- if we don’t look the same!”

She looked at Sarah pointedly, as she added.

“You can look at Aunty Tal any day,” she whined, pouting. “I know she’s pretty, and she gave you a kiss - but… I’m important too! And- we have to win! Do you understand, Sarah Alder? Do you?”

Sarah shrunk back, looking exceedingly embarrassed. Especially, given the scene that the child had caused, as a result. All eyes were starkly on the pair now, and Sarah couldn’t help but feel humiliated. Called out like a love sick school girl, who wasn’t even supposed to be in love. Or - was she? She wasn’t sure. It was just all too confusing at that moment. Sarah wished there was just a second of silence for her to recuperate, or at least - to filter her thoughts. But - it was to no avail. She was stuck there. She sighed.

“I’m sorry, Callie,” she mumbled, quietly.

Callie only huffed, glaring ahead. Sarah’s heart sank. Abigail and Raelle glanced at them apprehensively, before clearing their throats. Abigail smiled stiffly, while Raelle sported a beam - the two carrying heavy clipboards with rating sheets like judges at a professional gig. Sarah found it rather amusing, but she held her tongue. Not risking another round of chastisement from the youngest in the group.

“Alright then, ladies and gentlemen,” Abigail stated sternly.

“Girls and- er… Girls,” Raelle said, with a laugh.

“Welcome to the annual gingerbread making competition,” Abigail smiled. “We’re happy to have you.”

“That we are,” Raelle reiterated slyly. “And - we’re even more excited to have our new special guest - General Sarah Alder!”

Sarah smiled awkwardly, giving a slight wave of her hand. Petra only cackled at her shyness, nudging her friend - who, in turn, shot her a rather withering look. They hadn’t quite got over the excitement of the morning. Petra gulped, hanging her head. Raelle cleared her throat.

“Anyways,” she chirped quickly. “No time like the present to begin.”

“Yes,” Abigail interjected, taking the lead. “But - before that - just a few ground rules. One: there will be no swapping of ingredients, or poaching of other’s resources.”

“Mother,” she added sternly. “I’m speaking to you.”

Petra only rolled her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal.

“It was one time,” she huffed, irritably.

“One time where Edwin had no ingredients!” Abigail retorted, shaking her head in disgust. “You can’t be a bully all the time!”

Petra only sulked, shaking her head mirthfully, as Raelle continued with an awkward smile.

“Anyways,” she said quickly. “You have thirty minutes from the start, and we’ll remind you at 10 minute intervals, as well as 5 minutes before we close. Got that?”

“Got it!” Callie and Aaliya shouted, looking at each other dangerously.

Raelle chuckled.

“Well then,” she stated smoothly. “Let the games - begin!”

…

Twenty-six minutes and approximately 4 seconds later, Callie and Sarah were in a bit of a pickle. As it turned out, assembling a gingerbread house from scratch was no minor feat, and required drying of icing and piping within the cracks to keep it from crumbling. Sarah, who had never made one before, found it rather difficult to use the strange icing to hold the walls in place, and on multiple occasions - their design had simply crumbled before them.

Callie was beside herself with distress, as she squeaked out commands like a general. Sarah tried to comply, really she did - but she found the pressure was rather getting to her. Even worse, as she looked to her side, she saw how Tally and Aaliya’s house was not only stable, but it was equally well decorated - with little sweets and candy canes lining its framework. Sarah let out a sigh, breathing heavily.

“It’s not working!” Callie cried, as she spun around in distress. “Sarah Alder, why isn’t it working?”

Sarah shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled fruitlessly, as she fiddled with the collapsing parts. “I really don’t know.”

She looked at the house somewhat desperately, almost contemplating using workings to make it stay. Callie was on the verge of tears by this point, and slumped down pathetically as she looked away. She was extremely disappointed, and it was all Sarah’s fault. Sarah felt awful.

“Sarah,” said a voice, as she felt herself slipping further. “Sarah, is everything ok?”

Sarah chuckled mirthfully, as she looked the other woman’s way. Slight malice, lingering unusually in her gaze. It was useless and frankly, she wouldn’t blame Tally if she wanted to gloat. She just felt so incapable. With all the icing and the tiny sweets and the weird little traditions that civilians had, she felt like a foreigner. Even with her own kind. After 300 years of her existence, she hadn’t had the foresight to learn how to bake. Pathetic.

“Hey,” Tally said softly, as she crossed her way to where the other woman stood. “Look at me, silly. Come on. I’ll make this all go away.”

Wrapping her arms around Sarah, earning a slight squeak, she held her softly. Stroking her back soothingly, as if comforting a child, as truthfully - Sarah was no better where failure was concerned. Despite her three hundred years of existence, she had had a remarkable affinity for practically everything she tried to learn. Something that Tally had learned subsequently had rather stunted her, years later. After a moment, Tally pulled back, looking sternly in the older woman’s eyes, as she asked.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Sarah looked up bitterly, making an attempt to shake her head. Before - the younger woman tutted at her irritably.

“Sarah,” she warned, looking at the woman seriously. “We’ve spoken about this, haven’t we?”

Sarah’s face contorted in seeming pain, as if admitting her failings was worse than death. She huffed, throwing her arms up awkwardly, as she gestured.

“The house?” Tally asked gently.

Sarah nodded silently, with a slight roll of her eyes, as if stating such was beneath her. Even if it wasn’t.

“I see,” Tally said quietly, crossing over to examine the wreck of a house. “And you don’t want to disappoint Callie?”

Sarah nodded, looking ashamed. Tally hummed, thinking.

“Well,” she said slowly, mumbling as she thought. “There is one thing we can do.”

“But - we’re going to have to act fast, can you do that for me?” she added.

At this, Sarah nodded.