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I'll Be Home for Christmas by slaymesoftly Eleven and Epilogue CHAPTER ELEVEN In spike of Buffy’s assurance that she wasn’t expecting Bill to move in, and his own agreement that he was in no way thinking along those lines—yet—by the time Thanksgiving had come and gone, he was around so much it was almost as if he did live there. Dawn had flown out for an early Thanksgiving, met Bill, given him her tentative seal of approval (after expressing her concern that Buffy was only interested in him because he looked like Spike), and agreed with Joyce that he was excellent stepfather material. She hugged Buffy goodbye and whispered that she was very happy for her, ignoring Buffy’s “Don’t get too excited. We’ve only been dating a few months.” In those few months, Bill had taken Buffy to meet his mother and on actual Thanksgiving Day, she and Joyce joined him at his mother’s house for dinner and to meet the rest of his family. His sister, her husband, Josie – their daughter who’d been a potential slayer – and her husband, and Bill’s two grandnieces were all friendly and made Buffy and Joyce feel very welcome – if a bit overwhelmed by everyone. It occurred to Buffy that her own version of “family” was a very small one, supplemented with a few old friends, and she’d been very pleased to see Joyce playing with the younger girls while she chatted with their mother about being a Slayer. It was soon obvious that Josie had made a good decision when she decided to forgo slayer training and have a normal family life. She was a very gentle person and reminded Buffy of Tara; although Buffy didn’t share with Josie that she reminded her of a witch she’d once known. She just smiled and agreed that being a slayer wasn’t for everyone. Josie was soon called to help out in the kitchen, and Buffy leaned in the doorway and watched Joyce and the two little girls roughhousing on the floor. “You’re awfully quiet,” Bill said in her ear as he walked up behind and put his hands on her shoulders. Buffy leaned back against him and tilted her head to look at him. “I was just thinking what solitary lives we lead when we aren’t off joining a bunch of other slayers or visiting the main campus for something. I mean, Joyce has lots of friends and she does things with them, but this is good for her. Seeing how big families work.” “We’re not exactly a big family,” he said. “My mother had just two children, only one of which gave her a grandchild, and now she has two great-grandchildren. The only thing that makes it seem like a lot of people are all the significant others here.” “Well, compared to my mom, me and Dawn, it seems big. We never lived close to Mom’s sister, so we hardly knew her. And the less said about my dad, the better.” She smiled at him. “This is nice. It’s fun.” “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I hope you don’t feel too much like you’re being checked out – for suitability as a girlfriend for me, I mean – not checked out, checked out.” Buffy giggled. “I knew what you meant. And no, nobody has made me feel weird or on display. Probably helps that Josie knows as much as she knows about slayers. Not as much as she would have learned if she’d gone to the school and into training, but she knows enough that she’s curious about us, not freaked out.” “Her youngest seems really taken with Joyce. Is there any chance….” “Oh yeah. I guess we ought to prepare Josie for the possibility. It does sometimes run in families. Spike always swore my mom was just a potential who aged out of her window. He said she’d have been a hell of slayer.” Buffy’s smile was sad, but proud. Bill put his arms all the way around her. “I’m sure she would have. She gave birth to you, didn’t she?” Ignoring the fact that there were other people in the room, some of them watching, Buffy turned around in his embrace and put her arms around him. “You know, every once in a while you say something and I remember whose soul is rattling around in there with you.” He sighed. “I try not to be bothered when he puts words in my mouth like that, but I guess I need to get used to it. He’s going to be part of me for the rest of my life, whether you’re in it or not.” She raised her head to meet his troubled gaze. “I’m sorry. Would you rather I didn’t tell you when that happens?” He shook his head. “I don’t think it matters, I can usually tell from your expression when it has.” She leaned away from him, frowning. “What do I do?” “You look like a woman in love. For just a few seconds, then you’re sad, and then you’re my Buffy again.” “Oh my God, Bill!” She dropped her arms and stepped away from him. Keeping her voice low, she said, “I’m so sorry! Why do you let me do that? Why do you even want to be around me? We should just stop—” He stopped her with a searing kiss that had one of his in-laws whistling. When they broke for air, he said, “Don’t you even try to finish that sentence. I’m a big boy and I know what I’m doing. Someday, you’re going to look at me like that, and it will be because you’re looking at me. And you won’t be sad about it anymore.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “I’m not sad that you’re you. I’m sad when I remember Spike is gone, and then I remember I have you, and I’m happy again. And this time, I was remembering my mom too. That makes me sad.” She stared at him anxiously, hoping he believed her. He just smiled and pulled her hand to his mouth to kiss it. “If I make you happy, that’s good enough for me. For now, anyway. Let’s see if Joyce is ready to leave. It’s getting late and I have plans for you tonight….” XXXXXXX “So, Christmas. What’s the plan?” Joyce raised her eyebrows and looked back and forth between Buffy and Bill. His presence at the breakfast table had long since ceased to be a novelty, and she waited patiently to see which one would answer her. “What would you like to do?” he asked. “Any plans we make need to include you and how you want to spend the holidays.” “Oh. Well… I guess… I don’t have a plan. You’re the grownups, you’re supposed to make the plans!” “In that case, what do you think about spending Christmas Eve here, just the three of us, and then going to my mother’s for Christmas dinner? Unless you think that’s too many people. It’ll be like Thanksgiving again, except the kids will be hyped up on presents and cookies.” “Sounds like a plan to me.” She beamed at him, then changed the subject. “Are we riding to school together this morning or should I start hoofing it?” “You know how I feel about anybody seeing me bringing you to school too often,” he sighed, shaking his head. “We just can’t do that until… we just can’t do that.” “It’s not like nobody knows you’re dating my mom, you know,” Joyce said with a snort. “I know. But knowing I’m dating her and making it obvious I’m sort of living here are not the same thing.” “Well if you two just get married—” “That’s enough, Joyce Anne Summers!” Joyce rolled her eyes and flounced from the room. They heard the front door slam behind her, then reopen. “Forgot my bookbag!” Then it slammed again and it was quiet. “I’m sorry.” “It’s alright, love. We knew this would happen. She wants a family.” “I’m her family!” “Maybe I shouldn’t be here so often. I should probably spend more nights at my own apartment… alone…” “Is that what you want to do?” Buffy tried to keep her voice even and casual, but failed miserably. “Hell no!” he said, standing up and pulling her to her feet so he could hold her tightly. “I never want to spend another night anywhere but next to you. But we can’t be selfish about this. We’re giving her the impression that I’m part of her life, and maybe we shouldn’t have let that happen so quickly.” “Too late now,” Buffy said, snuggling into his chest. “If she already feels that way, then spending the night somewhere else will just make her think we’re fighting or something.” “True. I’ll give it some thought today. Maybe I’ll come up with something better.” “Okay. See you tonight, then?” “Absolutely.” He kissed her long enough to have to adjust himself in his pants, glaring at her giggled response. “I’m going to my apartment after school to get some new clothes, but I’ll be here in time for dinner.” “Oh, speaking of dinner. Joyce is going home with a friend. They have a Christmas party to go to and want to get dressed together.” He stared at her. “What? It’s what girls do. We help each other get ready for parties.” “I will never understand women,” he said as he put on his jacket. “Maybe we should go out to eat then, if she isn’t going to be home.” “That was sort of my plan,” Buffy said with a grin. “Good job of picking up on my hint.” “My mother didn’t raise any stupid children. See you later, Buffy.” “Later.” XXXXXXX After a nice dinner at the restaurant they ate in on their first “date”, Buffy and Bill drove back to the house and let themselves in. “No Joyce in the house. Whatever will we do with our unsupervised time?” He took Buffy’s hand and pulled her down on the sofa. “We could make out on the couch?” she suggested, holding her face up for a kiss, which he immediately provided. “Or we could get naked and roll around on the living room rug,” he murmured against her lips. “Or that,” she said, already sliding to the floor and pulling him with her. He went willingly, pinning her down with his body while he went back to kissing her. Even after months of making love every time they could decently do so, given the fact that they had to consider the effect upon Joyce, Buffy was still thrilled with the way Bill’s body molded itself to hers. He was not as powerful as Spike – although, as she’d pointed out the first time, much warmer – nor was he as soft as aspiring poet William had been. He felt like the perfect combination between the two. “You’re perfect for me,” she blurted without thinking when he’d moved his kisses from her mouth to her neck. “Nice to know,” he said, raising his head and giving her a puzzled smile. “What brought that on?” Buffy wriggled against him and pulled him even closer. “I like the way you feel,” she said, blushing at having spoken her thoughts aloud. “It’s like you were made for me.” He cocked his head at her in that familiar way that no longer made her flinch but often caused her to smile. “At the risk of spoiling what looks like it might be a moment, is that because I feel like somebody else, or because you like this body?” Buffy’s gaze softened as she smiled at him. “It’s all you. I promise. You’re just right.” She felt his already hard cock twitch at her words and opened her legs to wrap them around his hips, pulling him against her. “See?” she breathed in his ear. “Just right.” “I could be just as right if we were naked,” he suggested, contradicting his own words by pushing against her. She moaned in reply and rubbed against the bulge that was nestled just where she wanted it. “But this feels so good….” she whimpered when he moved off and began to undress her. “Got something that’ll feel even better,” he promised, pulling her pants off and trailing kisses down her abdomen. “Soon as I get you out of this very pretty, but stubborn underwear.” As he spoke, he lost patience with the elastic on her panties and yanked them down her legs. Buffy’s amused giggle broke off with a gasp when he immediately put his mouth on her and began sucking. Within what seemed like only a few seconds of enjoying the incredible sensations he was creating, Buffy was arching up into him with a cry of release. While she lay in boneless lassitude and watched, he stripped off his own clothes until he was kneeling between her spread legs, his cock jutting forward. She lifted a lazy hand and stroked it, smiling at his appreciative hiss and the way his hips tipped toward her. “I suppose you think I should do something about that now,” she said. “All you have to do is lie there and be your usual incredible self,” he said, falling forward on his hands, suspending his upper body over her. He stroked his cock through the damp curls he’d refused to let her wax away, smiling when she shivered and her breathing deepened. Suddenly, she threw her legs up around his hips and pulled him in, raising her hips to meet his. Braced on her shoulder blades, she began squeezing him with her internal muscles while using her fingers to tweak his nipples. “Jesus Christ! Buffy. What are you doing?” His eyes were rolled back in his head, his torso remained supported by his now-trembling arms while Buffy slowly brought their lower bodies back to the floor. “I’m being incredible,” she said. “How do you like it so far?” “It’s not bad,” he gasped. “I’ll grade you on it later.” He lowered his upper body until they were once again pressed together and began to move his hips against hers.” “If it isn’t an ‘A’,” she said, biting his shoulder just hard enough to leave a mark, “you’re getting coal in your stocking next week.” XXXXXXXX Snuggled together on the couch with a throw over their naked bodies, Buffy and Bill exchanged quiet murmurs. Hours of taking advantage of Joyce’s absence had left them satisfied and exhausted. “Did we miss a room?” he asked, running his hand up and down her arm absently. “Well, we didn’t do it in Joyce’s room. And I don’t think we did the downstairs bathroom….” “We’ll catch them next time – not Joyce’s room, but maybe the other one.” “It’s pretty little…” “I’ve got confidence in us. We can do it.” “If and when we get the house to ourselves again,” Buffy reminded him, rubbing her face on his chest. “I think we need another shower. We got all sweaty again.” “It was worth it. I didn’t even know that position was possible.” He gazed down at her. “When does she go off to college?” Buffy giggled and smacked him lightly. “Are you trying to get rid of my daughter already? You haven’t even moved in yet.” “I think I’m ready for that anytime you are,” he said. “And, no, I’m not seriously trying to get rid of her. As much fun as tonight has been, and as much as it made me feel young and virile, I know damn good and well I’m neither of those things. I’m pretty sure we won’t be repeating this anytime in the immediate future.” Buffy stretched against him. “Well, you’re not all that young, but if you ask me you’re plenty virile. For an old guy…. Hey!” She rolled off the couch to the floor to get away from his retaliatory tickling. She looked around and sighed. “I guess as long as I’m off the couch, I may as well start picking stuff up and cleaning off a few surfaces….” She stood up and stretched again, watching his eyes darken as he stared at her. She shook her finger at him. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t look at me like that. We need to clean the house up and be upstairs in my bed, with the door shut, when Joyce gets home in the morning.” She grabbed his shirt from the floor and put it on to hide her from his admiring gaze. He laughed and threw off the blanket. “Trust me, love. I was only enjoying the view. There will be no follow-through here right now.” He grabbed his underwear and put it and a tee shirt on, before joining her in picking up their clothes, putting them on the stairs to go up when they did, and following her around the house putting the things they’d disturbed back into some sort of order. He gazed down at what used to be a centerpiece on the dining room table. “Did we do that?” “You did that, Mr. Right-here-right-now. So you pick it up while I wash the table off… I don’t suppose I can use bleach on wood?” When everything was back in order and they were both yawning, they stumbled upstairs and into Buffy’s bed, falling asleep almost immediately without more than a quick peck for a goodnight kiss and without remembering to close the door. They never noticed when Joyce got home mid-morning, nor did they see or hear her pause at the doorway to look at the two of them curled up together. She smiled and silently pulled the door closed on what she hoped was going to become a normal sight. Epilogue “Is that everything?” Joyce stared around the crumpled papers and ribbons, then began to laugh. “You should see your faces. I’m kidding! What am I, five?” She got up from her debris-filled spot on the floor and hugged Buffy and then, somewhat timidly, hugged Bill. “Thank you. Both of you. I love everything.” “You’re welcome, honey. And I love my gifts, too.” Buffy beamed as she patted the top box in the small stack beside her on the couch. Bill cleared his throat. “Ahem, I… um… I have one more for you.” Both Buffy and Joyce looked at him, waiting to see what else he might have. There were no unwrapped gifts left under the tree. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small, gaily-wrapped box, holding it out to Buffy, whose eyes went wide. Joyce’s happy squeal made him shake his head. “Don’t get too excited there, sweetheart. There’s a reason I’m not down on one knee.” He turned his attention to Buffy who was holding the box, but hadn’t opened it yet. “It is what you think it is… it’s a ring. But what kind of ring it is depends on you. It could mean we’re going to make this legal one of these days, or it could just be a nice piece of jewelry.” Buffy stared at him. “It depends on me? Don’t you know what you want it to be?” “Not till I see your reaction,” he said, holding her gaze. “When I see your face, then I’ll know.” “No pressure, Mom.” Joyce broke the tension for them. “Open it up!” Giving Joyce a mock glare, Buffy pulled off the wrapping and opened the cardboard store box to take out a normal ring box. With a hand that she assured herself wasn’t shaking, she opened it and gazed at the beautiful, if atypical, ring presented there. Rather than an ordinary diamond solitaire, the box contained a wide white gold band with letters carved on it. “I thought a ring with a stone might get in your way when you’re punching things, and I didn’t want it to be something you had to be taking off all the time.” “Oh, Bill, it’s beautiful. I love it.” She smiled at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “And I love you,” she said, well aware that both he and Joyce were watching her every move. “I love you, Bill Patterson.” The emphasis on his name, as well as the emotion in her eyes put a big smile on his face, and he dropped to one knee in front of her. Taking the ring from the box, he took her left hand and asked, “May I?” He didn’t wait for her nod, but slid the ring onto her finger and closed her hand over it. Buffy slid to the floor and into his embrace. Their kiss lasted until Joyce said, “Do I need to get the hose?” They broke apart far enough to laugh at her. “No. We’ll be good. Come here, honey.” Buffy held out one arm as Bill held out his and Joyce walked across on her knees to snuggle in between them. “This is the best Christmas ever,” she mumbled, her face buried in Bill’s chest. “The best ever!” If Bill muttered “Too bloody right it is”, no one acknowledged having heard it. The End and Happy Holidays
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