A/N: As a warning, this fic will contain both temporary Spike/OC and Buffy/OC - but conflict is what makes things fun, right?

Thanks to Slaymesoftly for betaing!

*****

Chapter 1: ’Tis the Season

“It’s just not right,” Buffy said, taking in the inexplicable sight before her.

Dawn wrinkled her nose. “I’m frightened.”

“Why would someone do something like that?”

“It’s like Christmas just… threw up on their lawn.”

From their vantage point on the front porch, they peered across the street, where their neighbors clearly eschewed the “less is more” theory in decorating their house. Plastic candy canes lined the front walk and the yard, where Winnie the Pooh in a Santa suit presided over the baby Jesus in his manger scene. Nearby, a herd of light-up reindeer – only the back halves of which were blinking – grazed in the shadow of the largest inflatable Frosty money could buy. Mr. Claus himself and his reindeer-drawn sleigh graced the roof of the house, perpetually in mid-take off, as Santa gave a Miss America wave to the neighborhood. The porch was draped with icicle lights and garland, and the windows were lined with those chasing lights traditionally found at video rental stores. The words “Season’s Greetings” were emblazoned in red and green neon across the front of the house, and every bush was drenched in Christmas lights, while one solitary strand wound its way around the lowest layer of branches of a large oak tree, some of which hung out over the middle of the street.

Dawn raised one hand to shield her eyes. “I can’t look anymore.”

Buffy tilted her head to one side. “I don’t remember ever hearing about Winnie the Pooh being present at the birth of Jesus.”

“I think I’m blind.”

“You just can’t appreciate it. See, it’s the lights in the middle of the street that really make it art.”

*****

Buffy heard the knock on the front door as she was getting ready to go out for patrol on Sunday night. “Spike?” she said, surprised to find the vampire on her porch. “What are you doing here?”

Without even coming inside, Spike blurted out, “What the hell is going on across the street?”

“Don’t even ask,” Buffy replied, rolling her eyes. “All that stuff just materialized over the weekend. So, uh, did you… need something?”

In response, Spike held out a wad of cash. “It’s five hundred dollars,” he explained. “Should be enough to hold off the bank, least for a little while.”

Buffy just stared at it. “Spike, what is this? What – where did you get this?”

“Said you needed money, right? Told you I’d help.” He grinned. “There’s decent money in bein’ evil, you know.”

Buffy gripped the side of the door, a sick sensation settling in the pit of her stomach as she imagined all the despicable ways Spike could’ve come across that much money. And he’d done it for her, making it partially her fault. “But I – I mean, where – how did you -”

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you mean.” He sounded hurt.

She met his eyes then quickly glanced away. “I – yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“Look, Buffy, I can explain,” Spike said, realizing he’d gone about this entirely backwards and given her the wrong idea. “Just let me inside, all right?”

Nodding slowly, Buffy backed up, opening the door further and allowing him to enter. She followed him into the living room and gingerly sat next to him on the sofa, her whole body tensed as though she expected to have to fight him at any moment.

“Thing is, Buffy, demons in this town… they know what I do, yeah? Helping you out, killing my own kind. So, sometimes, when odd jobs need doing, they, uh, they offer ’em to me.”

“Odd jobs? You mean killing things.” There was a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“Only demons,” he insisted.

Buffy still looked unconvinced. “But it’s so… mercenary.”

“What do you want me to do, pet?” Spike asked with exasperation. “Get a real job? Not much work out there for a bloke with no pulse and no papers.”

“I didn’t ask you to do anything!” she replied, leaping to her feet. “I didn’t ask you to give me money. And I certainly didn’t ask you to do this.”

“Buffy…” Spike stood up next to her, catching her by the elbow. “I just want to help you. Please, let me help you.”

“Spike, I don’t know…”

“There’s more where this came from. Always jobs need doing. Might even be able to bring in steady money for you, Buffy. Please…” He held her with his pleading gaze, wearing down her resistance as she realized with gratitude that he was trying to solve her problems the best way he knew how.

Buffy glanced again at the roll of bills in his hand. “You made all that in two days?”

Spike nodded.

“So, demons pay you to kill other demons… Hey, you think they’d pay me for that?”

He laughed. “Not a chance. I’ve had a fair share of offers to do you in, though… Well, I wouldn’t,” he insisted, when Buffy glared at him. “Point is, I can make more than enough to help you out, if you’ll let me.”

“I – I don’t know what to say.”

Spike reached out and ran one hand through the hair framing her face. “You don’t have to say anything. I made a promise, remember?”

“I feel guilty just taking your money.”

“You took care of me when I needed it,” Spike reminded her, remembering fondly how she’d nursed him back to health after Drusilla’s torture, how she’d offered him her own blood to make him well – something that would probably never happen again, after the hallucinations. “Let me take care of you.”

Buffy’s mouth twitched with indecision. “Spike…”

“You could live here.”

Buffy and Spike turned to see Dawn on the stairs, leaning against the railing, where she had been eavesdropping undetected for most of their conversation. “You could live here,” she said again, “and we could think of the money as rent.”

Spike’s face was full of doubt. “Niblet, that’s not –”

“No, that’s a good idea,” Buffy interrupted him.

Spike looked at her in surprise. “Bit? Can you give me a minute with your sis?” Once the younger girl had gone back upstairs, he told Buffy, “You don’t have to do that, love, just because she said it.”

“I’m not,” Buffy insisted. “I mean, you’d – you’d be giving us money in exchange for something. It’s fair. It – it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, ’cept for the part where I’m living in your house.” Spike sighed. “Look, Buffy, I know you’re still… out of sorts, after everything. It’s all right if you don’t trust me. You don’t have to do this just to prove that you’re –”

“But I want to,” she cut him off. “I want to trust you. I want us to be friends again.” She paused for a moment. “I’m not ready for anything more than that right now, but it doesn’t have to be… I mean, you’d have your own room and everything.”

Spike hesitated. “Let’s – let’s just think on it, all right? Don’t have to decide straight away.” He took her hand and pressed the money into her palm, closing her fingers around it. “Just take this for now,” he begged her. “Please.”

*****

“This is good,” Dawn said, as she and Spike put away their equipment following an afternoon training session at the Magic Box. “The not sneaking around anymore.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, “but we’re following your sister’s rules now. Once a week after school, so don’t be begging for more. And don’t even think about trying to go out on patrol until she says you’re ready.”

“Which’ll be never,” she pouted.

“Come on, she’s letting me teach you, isn’t she? She’s just protective. Give her time to adjust to you growin’ up.”

“Well, could she hurry up? She’s, like, way behind the curve.”

“Hey, kinda new at the whole being a mom thing, here,” Buffy’s voice cut in. Spike and Dawn turned to see her standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest. Dawn looked away sheepishly. “Don’t I get a little slack?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re the best big sister-mom I’ve ever had,” Dawn replied, rolling her eyes.

“And don’t you forget it.” Buffy pushed off the wall and strode into the room. “Dawn, go sit out in the shop and start your homework while I talk to Spike, okay?”

As Dawn did as she was told, Buffy turned to Spike. “How’s that for mothering?”

Spike half smiled. “What’s goin’ on, pet?”

“How’s it going with her?” Buffy asked, gesturing toward the door with her head.

“Good. We’ve, uh, started working on hand-to-hand combat, nothing fancy.” He was slightly disconcerted at her desire for a progress report. He wasn’t used to having to report back to someone.

Buffy nodded without looking at him, walking over to the punching bag. She had already changed out of her work clothes and was wearing a tank top and sweatpants for training. She took a couple experimental swings before turning around. “You too tired for another round?”

Spike looked at her with surprise. “You want me to train with you?”

Buffy nodded again. “I know you can’t hit back, but…” She glanced down, slightly embarrassed. “My best fights were, um, were always with you.”

A smile slowly crept across his face. “Flattered, pet.” He watched appreciatively as she stretched out, raising her arms above her head and going up on tiptoe, then extending each arm across her body and pressing it to her chest with the opposite forearm. His eyes widened when she spread her legs apart and bent down so that her palms rested on the floor, slowly sliding her feet outward until she was on the floor in a split.

“Now you’re just doin’ this to torture me,” he remarked.

“What? No…” Buffy’s face turned bright red as she scrambled to her feet. “Sorry, I just… I’m almost done.”

He smirked at her flustered reaction. “Teasing, love.”

She quickly walked away from him, propping one foot up on the wall at shoulder height and leaning forward to grab her ankle. “So, uh, have you thought more about… you know?”

“Moving in?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you thought about it?”

Buffy switched legs. “Well, I, um… I thought it was a good idea.”

“And you still do?”

“Yeah… I – I think that could be… good.” She turned around, finished with her stretches. “I mean, we have the space, and – and Dawn likes having you around. And like I said, you know, fairness with the money thing and all. Don’t you think?”

Spike nodded. “If that’s what you want, pet.”

“Is – is that what you want?” Buffy asked hesitantly. “I don’t want you to think you have to live with us. We could come up with something else if you –” She stopped when she met Spike’s eyes, and she had to stifle a giggle. “God, listen to us. We need to stop this – this walking around on pins and needles crap. We used to be decisive people.”

“Lot of things got taken out of our hands lately,” Spike pointed out. “Things we couldn’t control.”

“I know,” Buffy replied. “And I’m tired of stupid demons dictating my life. Time to start making our own choices again. So, okay, I want you to live with us,” she said, more confidently than she had before. “Do you want to move in?”

His eyes twinkled. “Yeah. Yeah, pet, I do.”

“When?”

Spike cocked his head to the side, thinking about what he’d need to get done before then. “Sunday?”

Buffy smiled. “Deal.”

*****

Later that night, Dawn glanced up from the kitchen sink when she heard the rapping on the back door. No one ever knocked on the back door. Anybody they knew well enough to use the back door never bothered with knocking. Puzzled, she left the dishes to answer it, and was surprised to find Spike lurking in the shadows of the porch.

“Spike? What are you –”

“Shhh!” He peeked in the doorway and, satisfied that she was alone in the kitchen, said in a low voice, “Your sister home?”

Dawn raised one eyebrow at his shifty behavior. “Yeah, she’s getting ready for patrol. You wanna –”

“No!” he interrupted in a harsh whisper.

“Did you two have a fight?” She eyed him suspiciously and with a fair measure of disapproval. He got the distinct impression that if they had had a fight, he’d have had to answer to her for it.

“No. I just…” He hesitated, and for a minute he looked like he might chicken out and not tell her. “Need your help with something. Don’t want Buffy to know.”

“What is it?” Her eyes twinkled with curiosity and the thrill of having a secret.

He shook his head. “Not here. Wait till she leaves, I’ll come get you.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, Bit. Just finish washing up and you’ll find out soon enough.”