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Christmas Series 2005 by slaymesoftly
 
Three
 
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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,” she 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 Willy's 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 almost growled. “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 the Slayer 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 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?” the Slayer’s 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, she 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.

“I know how you feel, Buff-“ She cut Xander off with a wave of her hand.

“I don’t think you do, Xander. And I KNOW you don’t know how I feel,” she growled, glaring at Willow.

“I find one thing that helps me forget, for a while, how miserable I am here and you - the people responsible for my pain - want to take it away from me. You can’t begin to imagine how I feel – or how much being around Spike helps me deal with it. He is the only one in my life who isn’t trying to run it for me. Who just loves me the way I am. I NEED him. He makes me happy. And you want me to make him go away because you don’t like him here? Xander? Willow? You want to tell me again how much you love me? How you’re trying to help me? Cause, the helping? The love? Really not seeing it here. Not from either of you.”

She glared around the table, breathing hard, her face flushed as she challenged them to argue with her. A sideways scowl halted Dawn’s attempt to provide applause for the speech and the teenager put her hands in her lap and waited for the outcome.

“Buffy – we just don’t think you’re thinking clearly. We’re just trying to help yo-“

“And, again, I’d like to point out that the only thing keeping me sane, the only thing - besides Dawn - anchoring me to this world that demands so much of me is that man there.” Buffy pointed to the completely overwhelmed vampire standing behind her.

“He’s not a man, he’s a demon, Buffy.” Xander was almost spitting in his haste to get his words out. “That right there shows that you’re not thinking right. You need us to tell you wh—“

“I don’t NEED you to tell me anything, Xander. Except, maybe, Merry Christmas. And if you can’t include Spike in that, then the only thing this family needs to hear from you is ‘good-night’.”

She held her chin up defiantly and waited for her two oldest friends to decide what was more important to them, that she allow them to run her life, or that she be happy to have them in it.

Willow looked around the room quickly and saw no support for her position from anyone except Xander. Dawn was clearly on Spike’s side, as everyone knew she would be after spending the previous summer with the chipped vampire as her constant companion and protector. Tara was staring at her plate sadly – her distress evident in every line of her body – and Willow flinched, remembering how she’d tried to control her former girlfriend’s life with a forgetting spell. Anya was glaring at Xander in a way that promised serious retribution when they got home, although at the moment he was still too wrapped in righteous indignation to notice.

The vampire in question was waiting with uncharacteristic patience; he was standing quietly behind Buffy ready to do whatever she asked and Willow studied him for a second with new eyes. Unlike Xander, she didn’t doubt his love for Buffy. If nothing else, his protecting and caring for Dawn when Buffy was dead and there was no reason for him to keep his promise to her, showed the depth of his emotion. Their eyes locked briefly, hers challenging, his almost pleading. With a guilt start she realized that he was asking her not to hurt Buffy any more than she already had.

She turned to her best female friend and saw, beneath the clear anger and determination, the pain waiting to emerge at the expected rejection for which Buffy was bracing herself.

She looked back at the man who’d been her best friend since kindergarten and suddenly understood that he had never outgrown his teen-aged crush on the Slayer. Through two girlfriends, multiple dates with demons, and a flirtation with her, he had never given up the idea that someday Buffy would see him as more than her good friend. The idea that she could prefer a vampire, one of the same beings that had killed his friend Jesse, was more than he could handle. His reaction had nothing to do with Spike’s being bad for Buffy and everything to do his own frustrated longings.

She shook her head slowly, her red hair glinting in the light from the candles on the table.

(I’ve been a fool. When did I go from sweet little Willow who wants everyone to be happy to arrogant Willow who thinks she should decide for them what that would be?)

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I don’t know what we were thinking. Of course, it’s your house and your life. And if you want Spike in it - if he makes you happy - then I’m happy. For both of you,” she added with a tentative smile at the astonished vampire.

“’Preciate that, Red,” he said with nod.

Every eye in the room swiveled to the equally amazed man standing near the doorway.

“Xander?” Buffy’s voice was soft and pleading, as was the expression on Willow’s face. The vampire’s eyes were calm and unconcerned. His only interest was in Buffy’s happiness, and for that reason he hoped the man would at least pretend to accept the no-longer-secret relationship.

Smothering the urge to run to the weapon’s chest for a stake or a sword, Xander swallowed the refusal that was ready to spring from mouth and admitted to himself that he had, at least temporarily, lost this particular fight.

Avoiding eye contact with either Buffy or Spike, he sat down again, saying coldly, “I think someone mentioned pie? I’ll have whipped cream on mine, please.”

Spike touched Buffy’s back gently and whispered, “That’s the best we’re going to get, pet. Let it go. It’s Christmas.”

Without looking at him, she nodded briefly and let out the tense breath she’d been holding. Moving towards the kitchen she said quietly, “Spike, why don’t you come and help me with the pie? Dawnie, Tara, would you two please clear the table?”

As soon as Buffy was in the kitchen, her shoulders slumped and she leaned into the counter, holding it tightly with both hands. Spike watched uncertainly as she took several deep breaths, then turned to face him saying with false perkiness, “Well, that went well, don’t you think?”

“It went better than it could have,” he replied honestly. “Red came through like a champ.”

“Yeah, she did, didn’t she?” Buffy gave a wry smile. “I guess she figures she owes me.”

“She does owe you, love.” He stepped closer and risked running a hand lightly down one arm. “They all owe you.”

“They owe you, too,” Buffy said fiercely. “Dawn told me – hell, they’ve all told me about how you helped them while I was… gone. I can’t believe they forgot that so fast once I was back. They just treat you like… like hired muscle.” Her face turned white, remembering her sister’s words earlier in the day. Her eyes flew up to his, wide with apology.

“And so have I. Even if we weren’t… whatever we are….” She blushed, not sure what to call their relationship now that she’d acknowledged they had one. “Even if we weren’t together,” she finished firmly, trying not to notice the joy spreading across the vampire’s face, “you would still have earned the right to be here with everyone else. It’s time they – we – all realized that.”

Whatever further admissions might have been made were cut off by the arrival of, not Dawn and Tara, but Willow and Tara carried armloads of dirty dishes from the dining room. Spike smirked and winked at the blushing blond witch as she tried to pretend that there was nothing unusual about her willingness to be around her former girlfriend. Dawn followed closely behind them, carrying the remaining dishes and piling them in the sink.

Xander’s face was still thunderous when they all came back out, carrying plates of pumpkin pie liberally covered in whipped cream. He mumbled his thanks when Willow set the plate with the largest piece down in front of him and immediately began to eat without waiting for or looking at anyone.

Willow hesitated briefly, holding her own plate, looking from the side of the table where Xander and Anya ate in silence to the other where Dawn and Tara were already moving their chairs closer together to make room for her. Casting a sad look at her friend first, she gratefully sat down next to Tara and tried not to look as thrilled as she felt about being there.

Dessert was over with quickly; Dawn being the only one at the table willing to ignore the various tensions in the room and chatter as she ate. Buffy quickly picked up the dishes and carried them into the kitchen, insisting that she and Dawn would clean up while their “company” went back to the living room and made themselves comfortable.

Spike gave Dawn a jerk of his head to indicate she was to join the witches and Xander and Anya in the living room, then followed Buffy into the kitchen.

“Why don’t you join your mates, pet, and I’ll get this started,” he said quietly, beginning to scrape plates.

“You’re going to do the dishes?” The disbelief on her face was so comical that he was wishing the camera still had pictures left, but instead of laughing, he growled, “If you tell anyone about this, I WILL make you my third dead Slayer.”

“No you won’t,” she laughed confidently. “But you should be very grateful the camera is full.”

He growled again, turning her and giving a light shove toward the living room. “Go,” he muttered. “Go sing carols or talk about puppies or whatever it is you lot do after stuffing yourselves. I’ll keep my under-appreciated self out here for awhile and give the whelp some time to cool off.”

“Okaaaaay. Who are you and what have you done with Spike? He’s about your height, blond hair, considers annoying Xander one of life’s great entertainments….”

“You’re pushing it, missy.”

“Not yet, I’m not,” she replied with a sassy wink as she left the kitchen. “But maybe later.”

“There’s no maybe about it, Slayer!” he called after her as she walked away laughing softly.

Smiling so much he was afraid his face would break, Spike turned back to the sink full of dishes and began filling the sink with hot water and detergent. Even with his arms in dishwater up to his elbows, he had no doubt this was turning into the best Christmas of his life.



 
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