A Very Spuffy Christmas (December, 2005)

Author: Slaymesoftly

rating: PG13 through NC17

Season: an imaginary season six

disclaimer: Not my characters, just playing with Joss’s toys

distribution: If you already have permission, take it; if not, please ask. also, please included the below explanation and dedications.

The lovely banner (and credit for the title, lol) is by the talented Bloody tears of Life. thank you, blt!

amidst my christmas present fics for various people, I had two requests for fluffy spuffy, so i made two separate but continuous christmas eve fics. then I remembered i wanted to make one for tam, even though she didn’t ask so I added a third part, taking place on christmas day/evening. a ficlet that grew until I had to add a fourth part; which was ok, because it gave me a prezzie for megan!

For Spike’sDeb, who requested fluffy Christmas Spuffy:

Part I

“What do you mean, ‘Where’s Spike?’ It’s Christmas Eve, Dawn. He’s a vampire- you know, all with the cross avoidance and violence? Why would he want to join a celebration of goodness and peace?”

“Because he’s Spike and he likes Christmas…and because he brought you a present and-he-thinks-he-isn’t-going-to-be-allowed-to-give-it-to you-so-I-invited-him-over,” she finished in a rush.

Buffy stopped her tree decorating and flushed. “Why would Spike, of all people, buy me a Christmas present?” she demanded, hoping Dawn would believe her skeptical words.

Instead, her sister cocked her head in a gesture very reminiscent of the vampire in question and said with some asperity, “Because he loves you, Buffy. You know that. I don’t understand why you seem to be trying so hard lately to pretend he doesn’t. Everybody knows he does – even Xander. You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten about it!”

Buffy blushed again, with genuine shame this time. “Oh. Oh yeah, I guess that would be a good reason to…I mean, not that he needed to get me a gift! I certainly wasn’t expecting one. I don’t have anything for him, and…what if he stole it? What if he killed someone for it? Oh, this is bad. Very bad. No. We can’t do gifts. It’s too much like---Nope. No gifts from the vampire,” Buffy finished with a note of finality to find Dawn staring at her with suspicious eyes.

“Jeez, Buffy. Calm down! It’s just Spike. He got you a gift because he loves you and wants you to have a Christmas present. He knows we don’t have much money and I’m sure he isn’t expecting anything from you.”

“No,” Buffy admitted softly. “I don’t suppose he is…”

“Anyway,” Dawn chattered on as she picked up another ornament, ”I invited him to come over tonight and help us decorate the tree so he wouldn’t have to fight all the Scoobie snarkage tomorrow.”

“You what? Now? Tonight?”

Rather than look at her sister, to whom she addressed the shrieked questions, she ran to the hall mirror only to see a girl with circles under her unmade-up eyes, wearing baggy sweats and a lopsided ponytail staring back at her.

“Um, Dawn,” she said to her curious sister, “I’m just going to run upstairs and, um…clean-up. Yes, that’s it. I just noticed how dirty these sweats are and I’m going to go get some clean ones. I’ll be right back.”

She ran up the stairs to her room before Dawn could point out that the clothes she was wearing had come right out of the dryer and couldn’t be much cleaner. She was still staring thoughtfully after Buffy when Spike, rather uncharacteristically, knocked on the front door.

With the beginnings of an understanding smile on her face, Dawn opened the door and stepped back so he could come in. Spike glanced around, noticing the half-done tree and otherwise empty room before turning to give Dawn a quick hug and kiss on her cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Bit,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and trying not to appear to be looking around. “Buffy’s not here, then?” He struggled to keep the disappointment out of his voice and off his face as he draped the coat over the banister, but he couldn’t hide it from the girl who’d spent the entire summer watching him mourn her older sister.

“She’s here, Spike,” she said softly. “She’s just upstairs. I told her you were coming and she suddenly decided she wasn’t pretty enough and ran off to change.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “I’m sure that’s it. More like she ran upstairs to hide until I go aw—“

He paused, the words choked off, as an uncharacteristically subdued Slayer came slowly down the stairs. In just the few minutes she’d been gone, Buffy had managed to brush her hair into loose curls, apply some mascara and lip gloss, and put on tight-fitting jeans and a red sweater. She slowed even more when she saw the awestruck vampire watching her. Something about his expression was so reminiscent of the look he’d worn when she was just back from her grave that her breath caught in her throat.

Blushing slightly from the look of complete adoration on his face, she pretended to be surprised to see him, completely missing the way Dawn rolled her eyes as the teenager walked back into the living room.

“Spike!” Buffy said brightly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. Dawn and I were just—“

“I know, pet. I hope it’s alright with you. The Niblet invited me to come over and help with…whatever you need help with, I guess.” He spoke quickly, anxious to let her know that he hadn’t appeared without permission.

“Well, sure. I mean if Dawn wants you here…it IS Christmas, after all. Good will toward men – er – vampires and…”

“Buffy,” he said too low for Dawn to hear him. “If you want me to leave, just say so. I don’t want to spoil your Christmas, pet. Just wanted to…oh, bollocks! Here!” he finished, taking a small, neatly wrapped box from his duster pocket and handing it to her. Without looking at her to see what sort of reception his gift was getting, he took another, similar box out of his other pocket and walked in to place it under the tree with the sparse packages already there.

“One for you too, Niblet,” he said as he put it down. “But no opening them until tomorrow.” He glared sternly at her until she sighed and nodded.

“Fine, Spike, we won’t open them until tomorrow. Now grab some ornaments and start hanging.”

He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, glancing back towards the hallway before saying, “I know I said I’d help, Bit, but if big sis doesn’t want me here…”

Before Dawn could indignantly point out that it was her house too, Spike’s apologetic attempt to leave was interrupted when Buffy shocked all three of them by standing on her toes to kiss his cheek, saying softly, “Thank you, Spike,” before putting her own gift down in the meager stack of presents.

Dawn all but squealed in joy, as her sister continued to amaze her by saying cheerfully, “Please don’t go. Why don’t you help Dawn with the ornaments while I go make us all some hot chocolate?”

Fighting to keep his Big Bad image, the vampire shrugged and agreed gruffly, “Well, alright then. Just because I promised the Bit.”

Buffy gave him a smile that said he wasn’t fooling anyone before going into the kitchen to get out the ingredients for hot chocolate. She searched the whole kitchen while the milk was warming, but found no sign of any of the tiny marshmallows she knew her mother used to keep around for Spike. Reminding herself she should get some soon, (Just in case he comes around to visit Dawn and she fixes hot chocolate.) she put the mugs of hot drinks on a tray and carried it back into the living room where Dawn and Spike were arguing over which one of them had accidentally unplugged the lights.

With a sigh, Buffy put the tray down and walked over to put the plug back into the wall. She waited while their argument wound down, then sat on the couch and gestured to the tray.

“Come on, you two. It’s going to get cold.” She turned to smile at Spike apologetically as she said softly, “I couldn’t find any of the little marshmallows. I know you like them, but—“

“That’s ok, pet,” he interrupted quickly. “I…um…I brought my own. Just in case,” he added, looking at her from under his lashes to see if she was going to be mad.

Buffy rolled her eyes, but said with surprising good humor, “Well, where are they? You’ll have to share.”

Reaching into yet another pocket of his duster, he fished out a small bag of marshmallows and quickly brought it back into the living room, opening it and offering some to both Dawn and Buffy before dropping a handful into his own mug.

They all drank in companionable silence for several minutes before Buffy said abruptly, “The star! Dawn, we forgot to put the star on.”

She jumped up and rooted through the box of left over ornaments until she found what she was looking for and triumphantly held up a beat-up old cardboard star. What little was left of the glitter that had originally covered it, began to fall off and trickle down onto Buffy’s hair and face as she held it overhead.

She looked up at the top of the tree with dismay. It was clear none of the three of them was going to be tall enough to reach the top without standing on something. Buffy set the star down and went to get a chair from the dining room when Dawn spoke up.

“Why don’t you just get Spike to lift you up, Buffy? I mean what’s the point of having super strength if you never use it?”

She beamed innocently at the two adults who were carefully avoiding looking at each other, smiling quietly to herself at her own cleverness.

“Well, yeah, I guess that could work…if Spike doesn’t mind…”

“Oh! Oh, no, pet. I’d be happy to. I’ll just—“

He walked over to her, trying not to let his pleasure at being allowed to help her show on his face. Buffy’s heartbeat increased as he carefully turned her to face the tree and placed his hands on her waist. With the exception of her quick kiss on his cheek, it was the first time they’d touched since he came in and the usual immediate spark of electricity jumped from his hands to her body. They both gasped, frozen in place while each tried to conquer the urges inspired by their nearness. Hoping desperately that Dawn could not see or interpret her flaming face, Buffy faced the tree and held her arms up. The vampire easily lifted her slight frame, holding her above his head as she reached for the top of the tree. Glitter drifted down from the star, settling over both of them as she wiggled it around until it was firmly in place.

Dawn watched them carefully, smiling at the sight of the two blonds sprinkled with flecks of gold, before realizing that Spike was bringing Buffy down and would be releasing her soon. With a quick jump to her feet, she blurted, “I have to go to the bathroom!” and raced out before they had time to separate.

Left alone, after clearly hearing the slamming of the bathroom door, they stood trembling with the suppressed need to continue touching. When Buffy leaned gently back against his chest, Spike groaned and slid his hands from her waist, wrapping his arms all the way around her and holding her tightly. He dropped his head to nuzzle her ear, reveling in the way her heartbeat sped up again and the muffled whimper struggling to get out of her throat.

He slid his lips down her throat, pulling gently on the soft skin over her pulse and losing himself in the scent of her warm body. Without a thought to being visible through the unclosed drapes, or that her sister could come back at any moment, Buffy put her own hands over the strong arms holding her tightly against the body she’d come to crave and allowed her head to loll to one side, giving the master vampire complete access to her neck.

So lost were they in each other, that neither one heard Dawn come back to the entrance to the room. The teenaged key stood there for several minutes, smiled happily at the two most important people in her life as they shared a rare moment of tenderness. Too soon, the moment was interrupted as they both remembered her presence and stepped apart, looking with guilty eyes toward the hallway.

Dawn had ducked back quickly and made a great show of clearing her throat and walking heavily as she rounded the corner and paused to admire the newly-starred tree.

“Oh, that looks great, guys! We should do this every year – have Spike come to help us decorate, I mean.”

Buffy flushed and moved away from the vampire, saying quickly, “Dawn, I’m sure Spike has much more interesting things to do most years than help us with our tree.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he’d much rather be moping in his crypt than sitting here having hot chocolate. Not to mention the novelty of having you be nice to him for a change.”

Dawn’s voice dripped with scorn and the vampire shot her a warning growl, “Bit…”

“I’m just saying. You two look like you’re having a good time – I mean the way regular people have good times, you know?”

“Regular people?”

“Yeah – non-Slayer, non-vampirey type people. You know, who don’t get off on killing things and fighting? It’s a nice change from all the blood and yelling and--“

“All right, Dawn,” Buffy held up her hand, laughing. “I think we get the picture.”

“I’m not sure you do,” she mumbled almost to herself. “But you’re going to.”

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing!” she responded brightly, then gave a big yawn. “Oh, my. I’m suddenly so sleepy. I guess, since we’re done with the tree, I’ll just go to bed. The sooner it’s Christmas, the sooner I’ll be able to open my prezzies.”

“Right,” Spike tried to smother his disappointment. “I’ll just be going then, leave you two to—“

(Moron)! She gave the vampire an irritated glare before saying quickly, “Oh no. You two don’t have to call it a night just because I’m tired. Why don’t you keep Buffy company? Watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” or something. I’ll just go up to my room and go to sleep. We all know what a heavy sleeper I am.” She edged toward the stairs, pausing to grab a ball of mistletoe off the hall table.

“Oh, here, we forgot this. Maybe you can lift Buffy up again so she can hang it in front of the door?”

She tossed it to her embarrassed sister and with a “Good night, Spike. Merry Christmas!” she ran up the stairs and into her room, falling on the bed with a sigh. “Well, I’ve done what I can. I hope they aren’t too stupid to figure the rest out for themselves.”

Downstairs Buffy was still bright red, tossing the mistletoe ball from one hand to the other and struggling for something to say.

“Well, that was subtle,” she finally managed, still not looking at him.

“I don’t think ‘subtle’ is in the Bit’s vocabulary, pet. I’m sorry she—“

“It’s okay,” Buffy whispered. “I think I understand what’s going on. She loves us both and she wants us to--“ She looked up at him and said sadly, “I’ve been very selfish; keeping you away from here because I was afraid somebody would…I didn’t think about the way Dawn feels about you or consider that she might miss you.”

“Or me, her,” he said quietly, reminding her that his feelings for her sister were not based completely on the long-ago promise he’d made to take care of her for Buffy.

“It’s just…it’s so hard to be around you now and not want to…”

“Shag my brains out?” he said hopefully.

“I was going to say ‘touch you’,” she said, biting her lip and glaring at him.

“I don’t think Dawn cares if you touch me, pet,” he said carefully, stepping closer to her.

“Yeah, that was pretty much the heavy-handed message, wasn’t it?” she surprised him by agreeing.

He slipped his arms around her lightly, kissing the top of her head as she rested it against his chest. While Spike rejoiced in the moment, fully expecting to be shoved away any second, Buffy found herself unable to resist indulging in the safe, loved feeling that being held so chastely inspired. Where she would normally have pushed him away, refusing to admit to herself or to him that she liked it when he held her; something about having her sister’s tacit permission to do so gave her the courage to admit that she craved the vampire’s touch for more than just the great sex that she insisted was all there was between them.

Her own arms, acting independently of her brain, slid around his waist and she settled against him with a contented sigh, telling herself it was just for the night and they could go back to normal after Christmas. Or New Year’s, at the latest.

For Bloody Tears of Life who wanted more Spuffy – a continuation of the Christmas drabble I did for Spikesdeb:

Part II

Spike was sure he was asleep and dreaming as he stood, arms around Buffy, sharing what could only be called an affectionate hug. With every fiber of his being he hoped not to wake up, quite certain if he dusted right then and there that his dust would drift around forever, too happy to settle into the earth where it belonged.

The longer she stood there, happily wrapped in the arms of the vampire she insisted she didn’t love, the more confused Buffy became. Spike made no attempt to escalate the embrace into anything else, although she could tell by his silence that he was struggling to contain the endearments and declarations of love to which she always turned a deaf ear. Giving him a little squeeze to indicate she wasn’t moving out of his embrace because she didn’t want to be there, she straightened, tilting her head up to look into his wary eyes.

“I think we’re supposed to be hanging this mistletoe ball,” she said softly, knowing that her usual rejections of his attempts to show affection were responsible for the uncertain look on his face.

Relieved that she didn’t appear to be regretting the moment of tenderness, he responded with a smile, “Ready when you are, pet.”

This time, he lifted her up where she stood, holding her tightly and trying to ignore the fact that his face was right next to the zipper of her jeans. Any other time, he would have taken advantage of their positions to grab the zipper pull in his teeth and slide it down, but the trust clearly implicit in Buffy’s allowing him that kind of access prevented him from taking advantage of it. Instead, he allowed himself to take only small sniffs of the delightful scent coming from her warm body as she squirmed around trying to tie the ball to the light fixture.

Buffy was more than conscious of the fact that Spike’s face was within a few inches of her suddenly damp crotch; memories of the things that he could do with his lips and tongue made her fumble with the ribbon she was trying to tie to the light. She wanted very badly not to make the night about the violent sex that was all she normally allowed between them, but her body was responding to his nearness in spite of herself and she allowed a small moan to escape as she finished tying the ribbon.

“Okay,” she murmured. “I got it. You can let me down now.”

“Don’t want to,” he growled, giving up the fight now that he could sense and smell her arousal. Instead of letting her down, he pulled her closer and buried his nose in the apex of her thighs, nipping gently at her through her jeans. Buffy grabbed his hair, curling her fingers into his scalp as she pushed against his face with a small gasp.

Frustration with the layer of denim between them finally took its toll and he allowed her to slide down his body slowly until he could put his mouth on the bare skin of her throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses until he reached her mouth. With no hesitation, they fell into a deep kiss, tongues and lips alternately rough and tender as Buffy melded her body with his, trusting in his ability to hold her up if her knees choose not to work.

“Buffy,” he gasped, pausing to pull on the soft skin over her pounding pulse. “Didn’t want to do this tonight, love. Was just enjoying the—“

“Neither did I,” she murmured, tilting her head to allow him better access to her neck. “Don’t want you to think—“

With a supreme effort of will, they broke apart at the same time- staring at each other from a few inches away and breathing heavily.

“We can do this,” Buffy gasped. “We can be around each other and not be all about the sex. We do it all the time when other people are watching.”

“Maybe you can,” the vampire grumbled. “You think I wear that duster all the time just because I’m cold?” He gestured to the very obvious bulge in his own jeans and tried to shift it to a more comfortable position.

She laughed and, without stopping to think, reached out and stroked the offending body part, eliciting a heartfelt groan from the vampire.

“Bloody hell, Slayer!” He struggled to keep his voice too low for Dawn’s ears as he grabbed her hand, stilling it in place.

Buffy gave him a soft squeeze, bringing another groan, then reluctantly removed her hand saying sadly, “I guess maybe you’d better go then. I don’t know what Dawn thought she was setting up, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t what’s going to happen if we keep this up much longer.”

Spike sighed, agreeing in spite of himself. “I suppose you’re right, pet.” He hesitated; then said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? For what?”

“For turning what was becoming the best night of my life into just another reminder that I’m a vampire with no self-control. I’m sorry, love. Would’ve – should’ve been perfectly happy to stand there and hold you all bloody night. Didn’t need to ruin it by—“

“Spike!” Buffy interrupted him, blushing furiously. “Do you think I don’t know you well enough by now to know what you were responding to?”

Remembering how wet her underwear had become just thinking about him, and knowing how much he loved the smell of her arousal, she had no doubt what had caused his loss of control. She struggled to relieve his guilt, while not admitting more than she wanted to about her own craving for the sexy vampire.

“Got to admit, there was a certain amount of temptation…” he responded with a grateful smile; then shrugged and said with a sigh, “Still an’ all, pet, I wish I hadn’t— was really enjoying the evening and now it’s got to be over.“

“There’s always tomorrow evening,” Buffy whispered, not looking at his suddenly intent face. She continued, still without looking at him but studying the rug with great interest, “Christmas dinner, opening presents, here…”

“Are you inviting me for Christmas, Slayer?”

He refused to allow her to pretend the invitation was casual and nothing out of the ordinary.

To Buffy’s credit, she accepted the challenge in his voice and raised her eyes to look into his while she said firmly, “I am. Would you like to come back tomorrow and join us for Christmas Day, Spike?”

“You know nothin’ would make me happier, love,” he answered softly. “But I don’t want to spoil your Christmas by causing—“

“If I want you here, and Dawn wants you here, then I don’t see how you can possibly spoil the day. And if anybody else tries to ruin things, that won’t be your fault.”

The stubborn look on her face did not bode well for any Scoobies who intended to complain about the vampire’s presence, and he nodded, giving her a shy smile.

“Alright, then, pet. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Do you want me to come early to help with anything?”

Buffy shook her head and said, somewhat shamefaced, “No, that’s okay. Willow went on vacation with her parents and Tara is coming over to do the cooking. It’ll just be us – Dawn and me – and Tara, and Xander and Anya,” she finished quickly.

“You know the whelp is gonna go bonkers, don’t you?” Spike said with a worried frown.

“I thought you wanted people to know about us?” she said, sticking out her lower lip.

He titled his head and looked at her with the barest trace of hope on his face.

“Is that what this is, then?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “Coming out of the closet – or the crypt, as the case might be?”

“I don’t’ know…let’s not make a big deal, okay? It’s just Christmas and you’re going to be here because you’re…you’re…you’re one of us. Okay? You’re part of Dawn’s life and…part of my life…and if Xander wasn’t such a jerk, he’d admit you’re just as much a part of the Scoobies as Anya or Tara. You have a right to be here and I have a right to invite whoever I want to and…”

“Alright, love, I think I’ve got it. Not a big deal, just my usual hanging around – except that this time when the whelp tells me to take my evil, soulless self out before he stakes me…”

“He’ll have to go through me to do it,” she said quietly. She looked up at him anxiously. “I’m not planning to make some big announcement, you know. It’s not like I’m going to say, ‘Hey, everybody, Spike and I are together now. Surprise!’ We’re just going to act like you have every right to be here and…and then we’ll see how it goes. Okay?”

The vampire was touched by her uncertainly as she asked his permission to give him more recognition than he’d ever hoped for. He stepped closer to her and touched her brow with his fingers, smoothing the worried frown away.

“Whatever you want to do is alright with me, Buffy. You know that. Always has been, always will be. I’ll follow your lead, love.”

“I just want it to be a nice Christmas,” she said with sigh. “For everybody. Including you,” she added, leaning into him lightly. She glanced up as he rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Especially you,” she amended, dropping her eyes and blushing.

“It will be, pet.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and stepped around her to open the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, love. Happy Christmas, Buffy.”

“Good night, Spike. Merry Christmas.” She smiled and gave him a little wave as he took his duster and walked out the door. “Merry Christmas,” she repeated in a whisper before turning to go up the stairs to her bed.

For Tam – who didn’t ask for anything, but was supposed to get one anyway – part III of the Christmas spuffy

Part III

Christmas day dawned bright and sunny, as befitted a holiday in southern California; in spite of the beautiful day, Buffy did her best to sleep in. The dreams she was having in which there was a lean, muscular body sharing the bed with her, dreams in which she woke up to soft lips on her neck and murmured endearments, were making her feel all warm and snuggly and she had no desire to interrupt them before she was ready. Unfortunately, Dawn had no interest in what anybody was dreaming and she proceeded to bang things around in the kitchen until a bleary-eyed Buffy stumbled in.

“You had better have the coffee already made,” the Slayer threatened. “Or Christmas will be cancelled.”

Dawn smiled weakly and shoved a cup of warm, muddy-looking water in front of her.

“Uh, I couldn’t remember how to turn the coffee pot on, so this was the best I could do,” she said sheepishly.

Buffy took one sip and immediately threw the rest into the sink with a groan.

“Couldn’t you have waited just a little while, Dawn,” she said with a whine. “Are you still five?”

She flashed back to implanted memories of a hyperactive Dawn running around making everyone get up at daybreak to open presents on Christmas morning.

“Buffy, it’s ten o’clock already. I think I’ve been very patient. What’s the matter? Did someone keep you up too late last night?” She gave her sister a sly, hopeful look.

Buffy flushed and said quickly, “No. No one kept me up late, Miss Wannabe Matchmaker. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Dawn’s face fell. “So you and Spike…I mean not that I expected to wake up and find him in your room or something…but…”

“He’s coming back for dinner,” Buffy replied shortly in a voice that said she clearly did not want to discuss it any further.

A voice that Dawn cheerfully ignored, squealing in delight. “Spike’s coming for dinner? With us? Oh, that is so cool!”

“He has a right to be here,” Buffy said primly, trying to not smile at her sister’s enthusiasm. “Just like any other Scoobie.”

Dawn bounced into the living room, heading immediately for the small stack of presents with her name on them. Thanks to some foresight on the part of a still guilt-stricken Willow, the meager gifts that Buffy and Dawn could afford to give each other had been supplemented by those from Xander and Anya, Willow, Tara and Giles. So, rather than having to wait until the evening to open their gifts from their friends and face a dismal Christmas morning, each Summers girl had a small but respectable number of gifts waiting to be opened.

Buffy found herself reaching first for the small, neatly wrapped box that Spike had shoved into her hand the night before. She started to hesitate, then saw Dawn’s eager expression and finished reaching for it. She turned it over, but there was nothing on the outside to indicate neither for whom it was intended nor from whom it had come.

She opened it carefully, pausing when she saw that the box inside was from one of Sunnydale’s better jewelers. Almost afraid to open it and find that Spike had stolen something valuable for her, she hesitated, box in hand until Dawn snapped angrily, “He’s been working as a bartender at Willies’ for a whole month to be able to buy us presents. Stop looking at it like it was a snake and open it. I want to see how you like it.”

With a sigh of relief, Buffy opened the box to find a multi-functional, but still-delicate, wristwatch. The bracelet-like band was made with gold and silver links, the watch’s barely over-sized face contained in a gold case with silver trim. She gave an involuntary gasp at the beauty of the piece, even as she made a wry face at reading about its features. The most prominent of which was an alarm that could be set to go off just like a clock.

Buffy hid her face behind her hair and blushed, knowing he’d given her a watch with an alarm so that she wouldn’t fall asleep in his crypt and not make it home before Dawn awoke. She smiled at his thoughtfulness and stroked the beautiful band, not noticing Dawn’s pleased smile and hopeful expression.

“Put it on,” the teenager urged, and Buffy quickly complied, finding that the band had already been sized to fit her slender wrist. She turned her arm this way and that, admiring the way it glinted when it caught the light. She stopped quickly when she caught Dawn beaming at her, bringing on eye-rolling and sighing from her younger sister.

“It’s okay to like it, Buffy,” Dawn snapped. “He spent a lot of time trying to come up with something you could use that would also be gifty.”

“I don’t have anything for him.”

Buffy’s sudden, panicky declaration softened Dawn’s face and she said quietly, “Do you really think he cares? You’re letting him come here and spend Christmas with us. For once, you aren’t treating him like hired muscle that’s not fit to be around real people. I think that’s probably the best present you could give him.”

Dawn missed the hot flush that covered Buffy’s upper body as she thought about an even better present to give the vampire. Already, Buffy was planning how she could use her new alarm clock to allow her to spend the night with Spike with way he always wanted her to and that she so rarely did.

Trying to take her mind off the vampire’s cozy bedroom, she asked, “Did you help him pick it out?”

Dawn shook her head, not looking at Buffy as she picked up her own small box from her favorite vampire.

“No, he did it himself. But he showed it to me before he wrapped it and I told him it was perfect. Did you look on the back yet?” she asked, her head whipping up as she suddenly remembered that Spike told her it was engraved.

“On the back? No, I didn’t…” She took the watch off and turned it over to find a small inscription in fine script.

“Yours forever, W” was etched into the flat gold surface. Buffy rubbed her finger over the lettering, a small smile gracing her face until Dawn’s “What does it say?” jolted her out of her reverie.

“Oh! Oh, nothing important,” she said, quickly putting the watch back on her wrist. “Just ‘Merry Christmas’, you know.”

Dawn’s face said that was the lamest thing she’d ever heard, but she didn’t pursue it, deciding just to wait until Buffy took it off again to read it for herself. The girls then addressed themselves to the rest of the gifts, alternately displaying and oohing over them until they had unwrapped and examined everything. If either girl was upset by the practicality of most of the presents, she didn’t show it; pretending to be just as exciting about getting new socks and underwear as she would be to get a new CD.

Dawn’s gift from Spike was one of the few non-essential gift items opened. He had given her a silver bracelet from the same jewelry store from which he’d purchased Buffy’s gift and she promptly put in on her arm in imitation of Buffy’s response.

When the usable wrapping paper and ribbons had been carefully folded away and the non-usable debris thrown out, they each went back to their rooms to shower and dress for the coming meal preparation. By the time that Tara arrived at noon, both Dawn and Buffy were dressed and ready to help. They waited expectantly while Tara got the turkey out of the refrigerator and began to make the stuffing.

As soon as she was assured that the meal was well under way and nothing more could be done until almost the last minute, Buffy excused herself and went upstairs to dress for dinner. She went through her closet, searching for just the right combination of seasonal sexiness, finally settling on a long, black skirt and tight-fitting red sweater. The sweater had three-quarter length sleeves, leaving her newest jewelry acquisition clearly visible on her wrist.

She added gold earrings, and a silver ring to compliment the mixed metal on her new watch, brushed her hair, added mascara, blush and gloss – then stepped back to evaluate her look. She refused to admit to herself that she was dressing for Spike. (This just happens to be the best outfit for the occasion. And, of course I would wear the watch, because I have to know when to start the rest of the food and when to get it out of the oven and…)

In an unusual moment of honesty, she admitted that she was looking forward to seeing the vampire and that she had dressed in a manner she hoped he would like. The moment of honesty ended quickly as she refused to consider the ramifications of those feelings and swished out of her room, ready to greet her guests.

Dawn and Tara were sitting in the living room, the witch watching with tolerant amusement as Dawn displayed each and every item twice over. Buffy arrived just as her sister was showing off her new bracelet and she watched closely as Tara didn’t blink at hearing who had given it to her. She admired it with a small smile and then beckoned Buffy into the room.

‘I hear you got some new jewelry too,” she said gently. “May I see it?”

Buffy gave Dawn a glare before remembering that Tara actually knew more about her relationship with Spike than Dawn did. Relaxing a little, she held out her left arm, blushing when Tara exclaimed over the beautiful and practical gift.

“He’s coming for dinner,” Buffy blurted out, as Tara admired the watch. “I think that’s okay, don’t you?”

“I think it’s more than okay, Buffy. You know that. He belongs here just as much as I do.”

“Let’s hope everyone else thinks so,” Buffy said wryly as the front door was pushed open and Xander and Anya came in with a flurry of “Merry Christmas” and “Happy Solstice” wishes.

After gifts had been dutiful presented again and admired – with Anya commenting on the apparent monetary value of each one – the small group moved to the kitchen to help Tara with the dinner. They arrived just in time to jump out of the way of the smoking blanket under which Spike was trying to hide.

Xander’s attempt to demand an explanation for the vampire’s presence was drowned out by Dawn’s squeal of delight and loud expressions of gratitude for her bracelet.

“That appears to be quite valuable, although not nearly so much as Buffy’s new watch,” Anya volunteered helpfully as the embarrassed vampire returned Dawn’s grateful hug.

Xander’s eyes swiveled to Buffy. He had not actually noticed the new wristwatch on her bare arm, having been more interested in how beautiful she looked in the elegant skirt and tight sweater. Now his eye was drawn to the gleaming piece of jewelry and even he could figure out that it must have come from the same place and person as Dawn’s new bracelet.

His face darkened as he took in the flush on Buffy’s face and the sheepish grin on the vampire’s. As Spike shrugged out of his duster, revealing a blue dress shirt over a black turtleneck and dress pants instead of his usual black denim the young man whirled and left the kitchen, throwing himself onto the couch and turning on the television.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, during which Anya appeared uncharacteristically abashed.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” she said directly to the vampire. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to be rude – well, actually, he probably did—but that’s what he always says to people when he thinks I’ve done something inappropriate, so it seemed like the right thing to say.”

She looked around to see if she’d done the right thing, heartened when she met smiles of approval from almost everyone. Everyone except the Slayer who was glaring towards the living room.

“Buffy, that is a very scary expression you’re wearing and I would appreciate it if you did not wear it when you are looking at my boyfriend. I apologized for him and that should make it okay.”

Buffy cut her eyes towards Anya, who flinched back unconsciously, then she relaxed and let out her breath in a deep sigh.

“It’s all right, Anya. I’ll give him some time to get over it.”

No one commented or questioned what “it” it was that Xander was going to need to get over. Spike’s very presence, his unusual dress and the gleaming band on Buffy’s arm all spoke for themselves. There was no need for the big announcement she’d assured Spike she wasn’t going to make; everyone in the room knew that there had been an important shift in the relationship between the Slayer and the chipped vampire. Xander’s retreat to the loud TV set made his position on the change very clear and it cast a temporary pall over the celebration.

Spike’s eyes and face couldn’t hide the way he felt at seeing Buffy wearing his gift and she blushed when she saw him looking at her with open adoration. He took his cue from her and when she didn’t run to embrace him as Dawn had, but merely smiled and thanked him for the lovely gift, he nodded back and told her she was more than welcome.

“I’m glad you like it, pet,” he said quietly, moving to her side.

“I love it,” she whispered back, more because he was standing so close it was taking her breath away than to keep anyone from hearing.

Before they could move, Anya whipped a disposable camera off the counter and quickly snapped a photo of the two beautiful blonds in their nice clothes. She started to put it down, but Dawn grabbed it and said, “Just a couple more. You guys look so good today!”

Buffy grabbed Tara and Anya, insisting that they be in the picture also, so Spike put his arms around both girls and pulled them in close while Buffy posed in front of him. She leaned back against him, grateful for the opportunity for physical contact. The picture was followed by a flurry of different combinations of people and poses – Dawn and Spike, Dawn and Tara, Spike and Tara, Buffy and Dawn, and, finally, Spike took the camera and snapped a picture of all four girls laughing and huddled together in front of the stove.

There was one picture left when the vampire suggested that Anya might want to have one of her and “the whelp”. The ex-demon gave him a grateful look and went to get her boyfriend. Dragging Xander back into the kitchen, she insisted he pose with her while Dawn took a picture of them. Oblivious to the dark looks he was sending their way Spike and Buffy had moved to stand together near the refrigerator, their shoulders touching as they waited for the photograph to be completed.

As soon as Dawn had snapped the picture, the still-fuming Xander went back into the living room, turning the TV up as loud as he could so as not hear the laughter and excitement from the kitchen. When it became obvious that everyone was going to be expected to help, Anya quickly left the kitchen, mumbling that she was a “guest and shouldn’t be expected to help serve the meal.”

She threw herself down on the couch next to Xander, immediately turning the volume down to a tolerable level and demanding, “What is wrong with you?”

“There is a soulless, bloodsucking demon in that room carving a turkey. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“You’re narrow-minded and jealous?” Anya made no attempt to hide her own growing anger. “In case you haven’t noticed, Buffy is not your girl friend. And when she was dead, Spike spent more time here than you did. He took care of Dawn, kept you alive on patrol, and kept his mourning for Buffy thankfully out of sight. Well, after those first unmanly tears when she landed at the foot of Glory’s tower, anyway,” she finished. “He has every right to be here if they want him to.”

They were saved from having a full-blown fight by Tara’s quiet request that they come to the table. Xander placed himself as far away from Spike as he could, unclear whether to be grateful that the vampire was at one end of the table and Buffy at the other or to be annoyed at the implied domesticity of their positions. He was still trying to make up his mind while he filled his plate with the delicious food that Tara had helped make happen in the normally chaotic Summers kitchen, but lost the thread of his anger as he began to eat.

Pointedly ignoring Spike’s presence at the end of the table, he offered a toast to, “Happy holidays spent with good friends and family,” glaring angrily when everyone but him included the vampire before drinking.

Beside him, from her spot at the end of the table, Buffy hissed, “I think if you tried, you might be able to be a little bit more obnoxious, Xander. Don’t you have any Christmas spirit?”

Before he could answer, the front door flew open and to everyone’s surprise, Willow burst into the room babbling about business emergencies and shortened vacations. She slid to a halt, smiling shyly when she saw Tara sitting beside Dawn. Her eyes went from Tara and Dawn to Buffy then Xander and Anya, widening when she recognized the blond man at the head of the table.

“Willow!” Xander rose to his feet, happy to have some support. “Look at this!” He waved his hand at Spike, whose countenance was darkening as he saw Buffy begin to look distressed.

The witch gave Buffy a hard stare, then looked back at the vampire who was now glaring at her best male friend.

“What’s going on, Buffy?” her housemate asked with deceptive calm. “When I left a few days ago, Spike wasn’t part of this household.”

“Well, maybe he should have been,” Dawn muttered, earning a nudge from Tara.

“My point exactly!” Xander, feeling he now had reinforcements, began to unleash the venom and anger he’d been keeping under control while he was so badly outnumbered. As he went through a litany of reasons why Spike should not be there, beginning with his obsession with Buffy and his having given her a Christmas present which she “had no better sense than to encourage him by wearing”, Buffy’s face was visibly crumpling.

Willow walked around the table and patted Buffy on the shoulder saying encouragingly, “I’m back now, Buffy. We’ll find a way to get rid of him.” She stood up and looked at the vampire with the air of someone who was now in charge.

“I don’t want to get rid of him, Will.” Buffy’s quiet response caught everyone by surprise, including the vampire who had already stood up, preparing to leave before his presence ruined what had been a nice Christmas dinner.

Immediately, Willow and Xander began to berate her, insisting that he must have put a spell on her, that she wasn’t herself, hadn’t been since she got back, and needed to let them help her make these decisions. While Tara tried to prevent an angry Dawn from throwing mashed potatoes at Willow’s face, and Spike edged along the wall, thanking Buffy for asking him to dinner, the Slayer remained quietly in her seat until her friends ran out of breath.

When they stopped for air, she stood up and walked over to the vampire, looking up into his face for a second.

“It’s alright, pet,” he said quietly. “You’ve got all your mates here and I don’t want to spoil the rest of the night. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“No,” she said clearly. “You’ll see me now AND later. I’m tired of this!”

Buffy turned around and glared at her friends, who immediately began protesting that they were only doing it because they loved her.