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Description
'AIC' means 'Art I Commissioned' - this is not my work.

---

It is the art of the wonderful , who also edited (read: sprinkled their considerable writing magic) on the story below! I'm very grateful for their skill in both the visual and written art fields.

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DECEMBER 25, 2022

There, Sally thought warmly. She’d just slid the last present into place under the tree, which made everything in the room just so - to her own exacting standards, even! Sally allowed herself an indulgent Grin Of Utmost Glee before she went back into the kitchen for the final touches, her bauble earrings slapping about her cheeks and neck as she moved.

The whole Christmas enterprise this year was a break from the normal Callaghan traditions. Perhaps the biggest of all was the location: instead of the mansion the Callaghan family called home - which also played hostess to the headquarters of the Mighty Muscle Maiden Ministry, a secret organisation dedicated to keeping the world safe from magical and/or interdimensional threats, of which Sally was a founding member - they would spend the festive season in a palatial lodge in the Canadian Rockies.

And it was all for one very simple reason.

Phoebe, Sally’s eight-year-old daughter, had asked her why there hadn’t been snow on Christmas Day for the past four years straight, because, as she claimed, “it always snows on Christmas Day!”. Despite Sally’s explanation that TV shows and films didn’t always reflect real life - the number of different systems of magic, for example, were usually quite wide of the mark - Phoebe hadn’t been satisfied. So now the Callaghans were somewhere where it was highly likely to snow on the day, for once.

Sally had considered making a machine to control the weather - but as only comic-book supervillains did that - and the plans she’d considered were far more expensive than less… cackling alternatives - she’d decided against.

In the kitchen and watching the timer on her cooking, Sally thought of her family, all asleep upstairs. Her husband Joe, a primary school teacher, who’d grown into the life of husband and father like he’d be born for it, was always ready to flash the smile she’d fallen in love with so many years ago now. It was her fondest hope that he would get enough sleep on this strangest of nights - whereas Sally had had her required two hours long since - but the excitement of either, or both, of their children might put paid to that.

Phoebe, the oldest, took after her mother in all aspects but her brown hair, inherited from Joe. She wasn’t exactly mischievous, but had found ways to bend every rule to just inside the limit. Sally would chuckle or roll her eyes when Phoebe left the room after a talking-to, confident the girl was testing boundaries to understand where they were.

The apple of my eye, the beating of my heart, Sally thought to herself, her mental image of Phoebe’s smile far beyond 4K HD perfection. From her perhaps biased viewpoint, Phoebe was kind, warm, thoughtful, and shared her toys with her brother or friends like she was taking it to the Olympic level. Whenever Sally got the chance to watch Phoebe play, she marvelled at the girl’s imagination and ability to create narrative.

Sally’s son, Jake, might only have been six years old, but he was already an all-action sportsman who loved play more and more every day. He got almost constant cuts, scrapes, and bruises, all of which were dealt with by Sally and Joe with the requisite patience and utterly unheeded warnings. They were fortunate he’d not broken any bones - up to press.

The apple of my other eye, the beating of my… other… heart?! Sally thought, and hummed the first three notes of the Doctor Who theme tune to herself very, very quietly before a trademark chuckle. Jake had an incredible sense of justice, and would stand up for anyone who he felt wasn’t receiving it. This had gotten him into trouble at school more than once, so it was also fortunate that his mother understood justice innately too.

Sally shook herself from this reverie to check the clock on the cooker in the stylish and lavish kitchen. In one minute, her Christmas cookies, a morning tradition they’d kept despite the change in location, would be done. Sally prayed to the Goddess that there’d be enough time to add the usual decorations, for there were already excited rumblings coming from upstairs.

It’s at times like this I wish I had Faye’s Gift of slowing down time, Sally thought, and smiled to herself. It would be what it would be, after all. Some days perfection is what you decide it is, she reasoned.

Somehow the magic held: there was just enough time to get the cookies out of the oven, let them cool, and decorate them with different-coloured frosting. Sally had brought her own piping bags, made to a design that would accommodate the strength of a woman who could lift sixty tons and exert enough pressure to make dust of concrete. In a moment she almost took to be a Christmas miracle, Sally emerged from the kitchen with the cookies on a plate just as Joe, Phoebe, and Jake came down the stairs to wish her a happy Christmas.

And so indeed it was.

And it did snow.

---

If you want to learn more about Sally Callaghan, please click here.

If you want to see more TitanMassmind artwork, please click here.

Description
'AIC' means 'Art I Commissioned' - this is not my work.

---

It is the art of the wonderful , who also edited (read: sprinkled their considerable writing magic) on the story below! I'm very grateful for their skill in both the visual and written art fields.

---

DECEMBER 25, 2022

There, Sally thought warmly. She’d just slid the last present into place under the tree, which made everything in the room just so - to her own exacting standards, even! Sally allowed herself an indulgent Grin Of Utmost Glee before she went back into the kitchen for the final touches, her bauble earrings slapping about her cheeks and neck as she moved.

The whole Christmas enterprise this year was a break from the normal Callaghan traditions. Perhaps the biggest of all was the location: instead of the mansion the Callaghan family called home - which also played hostess to the headquarters of the Mighty Muscle Maiden Ministry, a secret organisation dedicated to keeping the world safe from magical and/or interdimensional threats, of which Sally was a founding member - they would spend the festive season in a palatial lodge in the Canadian Rockies.

And it was all for one very simple reason.

Phoebe, Sally’s eight-year-old daughter, had asked her why there hadn’t been snow on Christmas Day for the past four years straight, because, as she claimed, “it always snows on Christmas Day!”. Despite Sally’s explanation that TV shows and films didn’t always reflect real life - the number of different systems of magic, for example, were usually quite wide of the mark - Phoebe hadn’t been satisfied. So now the Callaghans were somewhere where it was highly likely to snow on the day, for once.

Sally had considered making a machine to control the weather - but as only comic-book supervillains did that - and the plans she’d considered were far more expensive than less… cackling alternatives - she’d decided against.

In the kitchen and watching the timer on her cooking, Sally thought of her family, all asleep upstairs. Her husband Joe, a primary school teacher, who’d grown into the life of husband and father like he’d be born for it, was always ready to flash the smile she’d fallen in love with so many years ago now. It was her fondest hope that he would get enough sleep on this strangest of nights - whereas Sally had had her required two hours long since - but the excitement of either, or both, of their children might put paid to that.

Phoebe, the oldest, took after her mother in all aspects but her brown hair, inherited from Joe. She wasn’t exactly mischievous, but had found ways to bend every rule to just inside the limit. Sally would chuckle or roll her eyes when Phoebe left the room after a talking-to, confident the girl was testing boundaries to understand where they were.

The apple of my eye, the beating of my heart, Sally thought to herself, her mental image of Phoebe’s smile far beyond 4K HD perfection. From her perhaps biased viewpoint, Phoebe was kind, warm, thoughtful, and shared her toys with her brother or friends like she was taking it to the Olympic level. Whenever Sally got the chance to watch Phoebe play, she marvelled at the girl’s imagination and ability to create narrative.

Sally’s son, Jake, might only have been six years old, but he was already an all-action sportsman who loved play more and more every day. He got almost constant cuts, scrapes, and bruises, all of which were dealt with by Sally and Joe with the requisite patience and utterly unheeded warnings. They were fortunate he’d not broken any bones - up to press.

The apple of my other eye, the beating of my… other… heart?! Sally thought, and hummed the first three notes of the Doctor Who theme tune to herself very, very quietly before a trademark chuckle. Jake had an incredible sense of justice, and would stand up for anyone who he felt wasn’t receiving it. This had gotten him into trouble at school more than once, so it was also fortunate that his mother understood justice innately too.

Sally shook herself from this reverie to check the clock on the cooker in the stylish and lavish kitchen. In one minute, her Christmas cookies, a morning tradition they’d kept despite the change in location, would be done. Sally prayed to the Goddess that there’d be enough time to add the usual decorations, for there were already excited rumblings coming from upstairs.

It’s at times like this I wish I had Faye’s Gift of slowing down time, Sally thought, and smiled to herself. It would be what it would be, after all. Some days perfection is what you decide it is, she reasoned.

Somehow the magic held: there was just enough time to get the cookies out of the oven, let them cool, and decorate them with different-coloured frosting. Sally had brought her own piping bags, made to a design that would accommodate the strength of a woman who could lift sixty tons and exert enough pressure to make dust of concrete. In a moment she almost took to be a Christmas miracle, Sally emerged from the kitchen with the cookies on a plate just as Joe, Phoebe, and Jake came down the stairs to wish her a happy Christmas.

And so indeed it was.

And it did snow.

---

If you want to learn more about Sally Callaghan, please click here.

If you want to see more TitanMassmind artwork, please click here.