Work Text:
“TRADITIOOOOON, TRADITION…”
Giles sank deeper with a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. On stage, the villagers of Anatevka were doing a wonderful impression of the Keystone Cops.
Dawn elbowed him. “We’re here for Willow.”
“S-she only auditioned for class,” Tara added. “You should have s-seen her face… villager #3.”
“Please understand, my mother took me to see Mr. Topol perfect the role of Tevye in London. Watching it butchered by amateurs is abuse.”
Willow ran up. “How was I?”
“A star.” Giles presented her with roses, and received a smile worthy of hours of torture… and more.