Even Humans Take a Break from War: A Christmas Story
by Sandy S.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Set after “Never Leave Me.” Completely AU after that!
Dedication: Happy Birthday, Aimee!!! This is your Spuffy Christmas birthday present! Hope you enjoy it! :o)
Summary: “The Powers that Be” grant the Scoobies a happy Christmas. . . despite the First Evil. 3rd person POV.
* * *
A heavenly dimension where time has no meaning
“But even humans take a break from war during the holidays,” insisted the most recent addition to the entities known as “The Powers that Be.”
“That’s true, but the only one that’s really human is the one young man,” countered the newcomer’s supervisor. “You’ve got a vampire, a key to a hell dimension, a vampire slayer, a vengeance demon, and a witch.”
“A vampire with a soul and a key, an *ex*-vengeance demon, a witch, and a slayer who all happen to be human.”
The higher being sighed. “Still, we can’t very well ask the most evil being in existence to take a break. Since when has evil ever listened to us?”
“I’ll *make* the evil one listen! In fact, I already have!” The young one beamed.
“Oh really?” Ah, the enthusiasm of one new to heavenly duties!
He bobbed his head triumphantly. “Yes, and the response was that if we convince one of the group to go along with the plan that it will be allowed to go smoothly.”
“And I suppose you’ve chosen who is to be convinced of your plan.”
“Yes, I have!”
“Enlighten us, then!”
“The vampire.” The answer was obvious.
“The vampire?” How utterly surprising!
“Yes,” the fresh heavenly host explained, “he’s the closest to any of us in his newly ensouled state.”
Now he was making sense. “Like Angel when he was restored to Earth.”
“Yes, and with the snow! That was your idea, wasn’t it, sir?” Surely, they’ll be convinced now!
Flattery would get him everywhere. “Yes, I believe it was.” The supervisor paused. “All right.”
“All right?”
“Bring the vampire here. So we can all witness your questioning of him.”
“No need to ask twice!”
* * *
“Wake up, vampire!” The voice was commanding in Spike’s head.
“Wh-what? I’m awake already! What do you want?” Spike blinked his eyes, slightly blinded by the brilliant light surrounding him. Last he remembered, he was. . . he shook his head. He didn’t want to remember that. . .
“You have been granted a special gift!”
Whoever was speaking to Spike was decidedly too cheerful. “Special gift? I don’t need any special gift. I’ve already got one. . . bloody fine gift it was, too!”
“You’re talking about your soul?”
“Yeah. What did you think I was talking about?” Spike squinted up at the man before him. The man was so covered in light that he could hardly make out the youthful features. “Who are you?”
“Well, let’s just say that you didn’t get offered this gift because you were a soulless vampire. And who am I? I’m one of the Powers that guide you and your friends.” The being resisted the urge to pat the vampire on the head in assurance. He had a feeling the vampire wouldn’t appreciate that gesture.
“What friends?” Spike asked sarcastically.
“The slayer and her friends.” At the urgings of the other Powers, the newcomer added, “And I’m here to offer you a holiday free of evil.”
“Well, if you say they’re my friends. . .” Spike trailed off when he realized what he was hearing. “Holiday free of evil?”
“Yes! But you have to agree to it!”
The interest shone on Spike’s face now. Then, his eyes narrowed, “What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch. You just have to agree.”
“There’s always a catch with the Powers.”
Why was the vampire being so difficult? Didn’t he know he’d soon be losing his chance for happiness amidst the coming chaos? “Do you know what’s to come?”
Spike winced at the memory of what he knew was coming. “I know what’s coming. I know what’s here. . . well, on earth.”
“Well, then, you know this may be your last chance for happiness. Why don’t you seize it?” Now he was getting somewhere with the previously errant vampire.
“What does the evil-free holiday gift entail?” This could possibly be the best thing he could ever give Buffy and Dawn.
He was an inch from closing the deal with the vampire. Who said being a higher being and helping people wasn’t exciting? “Two days completely free of evil: Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”
“And after those two days? Does the evil come back harder than ever?”
The vampire was good at ferreting out the details. “No. It just goes back to being the same.”
“Let me guess. Everyone forgets what happened, right?” Spike sighed.
“No. Your memories of the time will remain intact. It is our hope that this will rally the slayer and her friends to defeat the evil,” the new being assured Spike.
Always impulsive, Spike agreed, “It’s a deal.” He reached up and grasped the Power’s hand in thanks. “For Buffy. I have a couple of requests though.”
“Ask away.”
* * *
Earth, evening on Christmas Eve
The doorbell rang, and worriedly, Buffy rose from the dining table where the rest of the gang was seated and hurried to the front door. Despite Buffy’s warning to stay put, Dawn was hot on her sister’s heels. Xander hefted a large ax, and he, Anya, and Willow followed closely behind.
Buffy flung open the door to view the missing vampire, standing in the radiance of the porch light. Relief flooded over her. “Spike! Where the hell have you been?” She peered around him at the objects in his vicinity. “And where did you get all that. . . stuff?”
Spike appeared uncertain, especially under the curious gaze of Buffy’s sister and friends. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Buffy lowered her tone and reached to touch Spike’s forearm. “Tell me anyway.” After what had been happening recently with the First Evil, she found herself full of fresh new patience in regard to Spike.
“The Powers. I was with them.”
Dawn slipped around Buffy and peered into the bags at Spike’s feet. “The Powers gave you groceries?” The bags rustled. “And presents?” She caught something out of the corner of her eye. A smile spread over her face. “And a Christmas tree?”
Spike watched Dawn’s excitement as if drinking in her reaction. “Well, I had to. . . ask for that part.” Spike found Buffy’s eyes with his own. “Actually, all they offered was an evil free holiday.”
Buffy’s eyes widened. She tugged on his arm, and he allowed her to drag him through the doorway. “You better get in here. We need to discuss this.”
“What about the perishable food items? Some of this stuff needs refrigeration,” Dawn pointed out to her sister.
Willow joined Dawn on the porch, hefting a bag of food. “I’ll help you, Dawnie.”
Dawn smiled gratefully at the redhead. None of them liked to be alone lately.
Once settled in the living room, Xander, Anya, and Buffy began grilling Spike. He seemed somehow less vulnerable than he had been.
“So, how do you know what you saw and heard wasn’t the First Evil again?” Buffy asked what the rest of them had all been wondering. She’d intentionally seated herself nearer to him as if to protect him from Xander and Anya’s tendency to grill too harshly.
“They weren’t evil. I can sense that kind of thing. I’m a vampire, remember?” Memories of being chained in a bathtub at Giles’s house flooded his mind. The living room without chains was much better.
“Like you’ve been great with the sensing lately,” Xander commented wryly, propping the ax against his chair. “Remember the being confused by the First Evil in the school basement and elsewhere thing?”
“And the killing the innocent girls thing?” Anya added, swaying back and forth on her heels with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.
Spike shrank into himself. “Yeah. I remember.”
“So, I guess we can safely conclude that your sensors are a bit off,” Xander stated bluntly, crossing his arms.
“Xander,” Buffy said with a tinge of warning. “Please. Let’s keep this civil. We can’t afford any separations among us right now.”
“All right.” Xander held up his hands. “So, let’s see. Dawn was fooled by what appeared to be a heavenly being. . . Joyce. And Willow was fooled by the appearance of Cassie.”
“Almost. Almost fooled. The whole Tara asking me to commit suicide thing was what gave it away,” Willow protested as she and Dawn entered the living room.
“Yeah. Almost fooled.” Xander sent Willow a gentle smile. “So what makes you say you weren’t fooled, too?”
Spike saw doubt on all their faces. They had good reason to doubt. He sighed before standing. He strode to the front door, opened it, and snagged one of the remaining bags from the porch.
Once he resumed his position near Buffy, he faced her evenly as if they were the only two in the room. Pulling something out of the bag, he placed the small package reverently in Buffy’s hands.
Buffy studied the brightly wrapped gift with wide eyes. “What’s this?”
“The Powers said to give this to you in case you didn’t believe me,” he explained. “I was going to save it for tomorrow, but. . .”
“Really? What is it?”
“Open it and see,” Spike whispered softly.
“Be careful, Buffy,” Anya warned. “Evil can be very deceiving.”
Buffy read something in Spike’s eyes. “I think it’ll be okay.”
Even though her heart was beating rapidly, Buffy’s hands were steady as she neatly tore the paper off the small box. Paper and ribbon fluttered to the floor, and she didn’t hesitate to open the lid. What she saw made her throat tighten and forced a small gasp out of the back of her throat.
Xander, Anya, Willow, and Dawn jumped to hyper-alertness at Buffy’s reaction. Dawn was by her side in an instant, peering half-curiously, half-nervously into the box. The rest of gang spoke at the same time.
“Is it a bunny?” Anya speculated, fear in her eyes.
Willow’s thoughts were of her friend’s feelings, “Buffy, are you okay?”
And Xander clutched the ax in his hands. “Let me have a crack at it!”
Tears welled in Buffy’s eyes. She stared at Spike with awe on her face. “H-how?”
Spike resisted the urge to take her hands as he had upon her return from heaven. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. “The Powers said that it might be the only way to convince you that their offer wasn’t from evil.”
“Oh, Buffy, it’s beautiful.” Dawn shot Spike the type of look he hadn’t seen from the teenager since he returned from Africa. . . since he took care of her after Buffy’s death.
Now that the other three friends were less alarmed, they were nosy about the gift Spike had given Buffy. She carefully removed the present from the box, and Dawn pulled the box off her sister’s lap.
A delicate, shimmering flower rested in Buffy’s palms. Deep blues, reds, and purples stained the bloom, and the stem and leaves were dark green and damp with life. The flower pulsed with life despite the lack of soil around the tiny bare roots at the base of the stem. As Buffy turned the flower in the illumination of the lamps lighting the living room, iridescent, silvery sparkles flew from the petals and hung suspended in the air, releasing a refined but intoxicating scent.
“What is it?” Willow’s eyes were wide with wonder.
“Something not of earth,” Buffy spoke evenly in contrast to the strong emotions emanating from her features. “No evil could have access to something like this.”
“A flower found only in heaven,” Spike murmured. “Where you were.”
“Wow.” Xander was truly amazed.
Dawn held out cupped palms, and Buffy gently placed the flower in her hands. Willow squeezed next to Dawn on the couch, touching the delicate petals with reverence. Buffy stood next to Spike so that Anya could perch on the other side of Dawn.
“How does it survive without soil?” Willow asked, unsure if anyone could answer.
Anya cleared her throat, “It’s of heaven. It needs no earthly soil once it’s been in heaven’s soil.”
“Will it survive here on earth?” Buffy asked, looking up at Spike.
“They said that it would live as long as no evil was present. So, I guess that means it will die after Christmas is over.” Spike shrugged, acting indifferent but secretly feeling pleased that he was at last believed.
“When the evil comes back?” Dawn sounded regretful.
“Yeah, Bit, when the evil comes back.”
“I suggest we make the most of this time!” Buffy asserted, making an executive decision and crossing her arms as if to challenge anyone who disagreed. “How much time do we have?” She paused, calculating in her head. “I guess we have about a day and a half to make merry!”
“I don’t know, Buffy,” Xander said doubtfully. “I don’t want to fall into another trap.”
Willow and Anya shared Xander’s concerns but remained silent. They weren’t sure quite what to do with the situation.
Buffy was certain. “The flower Spike just shared could only have come from heaven, and even if somehow this has an evil element, which I highly doubt, we should enjoy what we’ve been given. . . make the most of the moment.”
“Carpe diem!” Willow provided with a trace of her past zeal.
“Yes!” Buffy grinned at her best friend. “But I want us to all be on board here. I don’t want anyone feeling upset inside and not saying anything. Is everyone in agreement that we will make the most of this?”
Buffy’s statement was contradictory to her usual reaction to things, and her friends were surprised. Slowly each one of them nodded in concurrence with Buffy’s position.
A giggle of excitement burst out of Dawn. After passing the flower to Willow, she hopped up from her seat and grabbed Spike’s hand, pulling him to the door. “Tree time!” Spike faltered indecisively, but Dawn was insistent. “You have to help me bring it in.”
Buffy watched her sister’s happiness and beamed at Spike. “Thank you,” she mouthed to the bewildered vampire as he was dragged to the front door.
* * *
Earth, hours later
Within four hours, the Christmas tree and house had been decorated with ornaments, tinsel, lights, garland, and stockings. Between mild but playful bickering sessions about who was to do what and put what where, everyone at Buffy’s house thoroughly enjoyed the relief from worrying about the great evil they would eventually have to face and conquer.
None of them had realized just how much tension and pressure they were under until that stress was removed. As a result, the merriment exhausted them. After they were finished decorating, they looked at one another and unanimously decided to get some sleep so that they would be refreshed for Christmas day.
After the rest of the Scoobies had settled in for the night, Buffy slowly descended the garland-woven stairs. The only source of luminescence was the gentle light being emitted from the strands of colors lining the Christmas tree’s branches. As if drawn by the fresh scent of pine, Buffy entered the living room to view the majesty of the tree.
Spike was leaning against the back of a chair his legs bent and his forearms resting on his elevated knees. He didn’t take his eyes from the tree until Buffy was a few feet from him. His eyes were bright with the sparks from the lights when his eyes met hers. A contented smile touched his face, but he didn’t appear tired.
“Hey.” Buffy sat beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest. “What are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
Buffy’s voice was light. “Bout what?”
“Just. . . thoughts.” Spike didn’t feel ready to make himself that vulnerable to her again, so he didn’t voice his perceptions, feelings. He kept things vague to stay safe. . . to protect himself. He could be at ease that way.
Buffy was silent in response, resting her chin in the valley between her knees. Then, she revealed, “When I was a little girl, my parents, Dawn, and I would decorate the tree together. We’d listen to old Christmas records and drink hot chocolate. My favorite as a kid was Captain Kangaroo’s Christmas album.
“Dad was allergic to real pine, so we had an artificial tree. He’d put all the branches on, and Dawn and I’d bring them to him one at a time. Then, Mom would sit on the floor and put hooks on the family ornaments. Dawn and I would take turns retrieving them from her and hanging them on the tree with Dad. After everything was finished, we’d turn out all the lights and lie under the tree, looking up at the infinity of lights and green. It was beautiful.”
Spike was watching her as she finished her story. “Do you sometimes miss those little traditions?”
Buffy laid her cheek on one knee, facing him wistfully. “Yeah, I do. But then, I make new memories. . . like tonight.” She touched his bicep briefly. “Before I forget to tell you, thank you.”
Spike shook his head. “Don’t thank me. Thank the Powers.”
Impulsively, Buffy reached out and took Spike’s hand, cradling it in her lap as she straightened her legs and crossed them in front of her. Spike was startled by the gesture and imitated her leg position.
“Tell me a Christmas story about you.” She smiled at him briefly. “I was just realizing that I know Christmas stories about everyone in this house except you.”
“What do you mean?” He was still lost in the shock that Buffy was touching him willingly again.
Buffy was feeling a bit dreamy. “Tell me a story about William’s Christmas. Not Spike. . . William.”
Spike was confused by Buffy’s request. “William?”
“William.”
“Okay.” Spike thought for a moment, trying to decide what to tell the young woman beside him. His human Christmases hadn’t exactly been particularly joyous. “My favorite memory of Christmas was of the food. Mother would oversee the cooking in the kitchen. We had servants that did most of the cooking. My siblings and I would be allowed to sleep late on Christmas day, so we’d wake up to the smell of. . .”
“You had siblings?” Buffy interrupted, playing with each of Spike’s fingers individually.
“Yeah, I did, love.” Spike didn’t offer more the confirmation, and Buffy didn’t press him. “Anyway, we’d wake up to the smell of fresh goose or pheasant. We’d scamper down the hall to the living area to find our presents. When we were little, our nanny always hid our presents throughout the living room, so we had to hunt them down.”
“Really? What kind of presents did you receive?”
Spike rubbed his thumb along Buffy’s palm. “Various things really. Usually fruit, nuts, and candy. My favorite present was the desk set I received with ink pens, ink, and paper.”
“Why was that your favorite?” Buffy had trouble remembering that Spike had once been very human. She laced her fingers through his and clasped his hand firmly.
“I loved to write.” His smile was full of sadness and regret but also a hint of sentimentality. “Poetry. Various things.”
“What happened to that part of you?” Buffy wondered aloud.
“I don’t know.” Spike shifted and gazed at the ceiling where tiny colors danced. “I think that part of me has always been there. I just express it in other ways.”
“How come?”
Spike took a deep breath and plunged into the truth, “I was pretty much ridiculed for my poetry, pet. I didn’t have much use for being ridiculed.”
Buffy bit her lip, thoughts of her ridicule of him sending ripples of guilt through her stomach. “Oh.”
They remained mute for several minutes, each lost in a reverie of memories and emotions. Neither stopped touching the other. Peacefulness settled over both of them, and Buffy found herself drifting toward sleep.
Then, a thought darted into her mind as if waving a red flag. She spoke before she thought, “Hey! I have an idea!”
Spike didn’t even seem startled. “What’s that, pet?”
“Let’s make Christmas like it was when you were a kid!” She jumped to her feet, releasing Spike’s hand.
For his part, Spike was bewildered. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s have dinner cooking when everyone wakes up, and let’s hide their presents in here!” Her eyes shone happily. “Will you help me?”
Spike stood, shoving his now free hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Buffy blinked at the double meaning behind his words. “I want you to be happy with the plan, too,” she said sincerely.
Spike smiled again. “I am.”
Buffy didn’t know when she’d ever seen him smile so much, but she accepted this new side of the vampire eagerly. “Okay! Let’s get busy!”
* * *
Christmas morning, early
Dawn woke before the sun rose and rolled over to check her alarm clock. She was amazed that the clock read three thirty in the morning. Brushing her hair out of her face, she climbed out of bed, padding on bare feet across the hall to the bathroom. Hearing sounds from the kitchen, she decided to investigate.
Creeping down the stairs and remaining hidden in the shadows near the kitchen doorway, she watched the action with wide eyes.
“Spike, could you check on the pie? I want to put the next one in soon.”
Dawn saw Buffy and Spike wearing aprons and working over the counters. Food, spices, pans, and utensils were strewn across the counters. A mix of smells met her nose, and the sounds of stirring and chopping filled the air.
“Got it.” The chopping stopped, and Spike slipped an oven mitt on his hand, pulling out the requisite pie. “Smells wonderful.”
“Yeah. It’s Mom’s recipe,” Buffy reminded him.
“You’ve always been a good cook,” Spike insisted.
“How would you know?”
The chopping resumed. “I remember Thanksgiving two years ago.” Spike was referring to the time Buffy cooked a large holiday dinner for Giles and the rest of the gang.
“Oh!” Buffy’s voice lowered after her brief outburst. “I forgot you were there.”
“I didn’t.” Spike’s tone was husky and deep.
“Oh.”
Dawn edged forward to hear better and almost jumped back when a cloud of white powder flew through the air.
Buffy shrieked. “Hey! The flour’s for the pies!!! And aren’t you supposed to be putting the other pie in the oven!”
“Shhh, Buffy. You’ll wake everyone up.”
Flour streaked at Spike from the opposite direction. “You hush! I’ll do what I please!”
“Don’t you always!” he teased.
Pouting, Buffy declared, “Okay, mister. This means war!” With that said, she smeared white grains on Spike’s nose.
With a huge grin on his face, he retaliated by run white-coated fingers through Buffy’s hair.
Horrified, she paused for a few seconds. Then, she scooped up a huge handful of flour and spread the powder over his black sleeves. Spike growled in return and lunged at her, intent on covering Buffy the way she had him.
Darting away, Buffy slipped on some loose powder that now layered the floor. Spike caught her arm before she fell. They ended up inches from one another, a bit breathless.
Buffy stared up into Spike’s eyes that were alight with a happiness she’d never before associated with him. She’d viewed him as evil, soulless, angry, sexy, pathetic. . . but never happy. Somehow, the lighthearted sparkle made her want to kiss him more than she wanted to admit. She recalled how soft his lips could be when she let him be tender with her.
Before Spike could take advantage of the moment, Dawn cleared her throat and stepped out of the background. “What’re you guys doing? Cooking at three A.M.?”
Buffy and Spike parted hastily.
Flustered, Buffy ordered, “Spike, put the other pie in the oven!”
Spike minded her silently, shoving the pie into the oven roughly.
Resuming her stirring, Buffy ignored his behavior. “Dawn, what are you doing up so early?”
“What are you doing cooking?” Dawn repeated with a small smirk on her face.
Spike began chopping carrots and onions again.
“Well,” Buffy explained, brushing flour out of her eyes, “Spike and I were trying to make the house smell nice when you guys woke up. It was supposed to be a surprise!”
“Well, it does smell good.” Dawn grinned. “But with the noise you were making, I’m surprised the whole household isn’t in here.”
“We weren’t noisy. . . were we, Dawnie?” Buffy cast a doubtful glance at Spike.
“Umm. . . yeah, you were.” Dawn rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t really annoyed.
“Afraid we were, pet,” Spike acknowledged, scraping vegetables into individual bowls.
“And what’s with the flour in your hair?” Dawn asked innocently.
Buffy touched her hair self-consciously. “Umm. Is there something in my hair?”
“Yep. Lots of flour!” Dawn declared, giggling.
Spike winked at Dawn, and she laughed harder. Buffy glared at both of them.
“Spike, shouldn’t you be gutting the turkey? And Dawn, since you’re up, you can help with the cooking!”
“You want *me* to put my hand in there with the intestines and entrails and pull them out of the turkey?” Spike protested putting his hands up in mock disgust.
Buffy planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, I do! And I *know* you’ve done worse with your hands before, so get to it!”
Grumbling good-naturedly to himself, Spike headed to the sink, bearing the bird. Dawn hugged her sister briefly before grabbing a spoon and taking the bowl from her. Buffy was free to supervise, so she paced back and forth between Dawn and Spike before finally deciding to sit on the counter near the sink and Spike.
“Watcha doing?” she asked mischievously.
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Spike had finished emptying the turkey of entrails and began to pull the skin off.
“Umm. . . skinning the turkey?”
“Want to help me?” Spike started to hand her the raw bird.
Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Ewww. Nope. That’s your job as the man in the room.”
Spike raised his eyebrows. “*Man* in the room?”
“Okay, vampire. But you’re definitely the only male in the room,” Buffy modified to appease him. “Therefore, it’s your job to skin the bird.”
“Uh huh. And who did it when it was just you, your mom, and Dawn here?”
“You know very well that you did it then, Buffy,” Dawn interrupted. She laid the spoon aside. “And can one of you take over the stirring? My arm’s tired! I’ll do something else instead.”
Buffy took the bowl from her. “How about set the table?”
Dawn brightened and saluted. “Sure thing! One set table right away!”
A few minutes after Dawn was out of earshot, Buffy asked boldly, “Were you going to kiss me before Dawn came in?”
Of all the things he thought Buffy might ask him, that was not what he was expecting. “Umm. . .” he hesitated. He still felt awkward around her.
Buffy reached out to touch Spike’s cheek, but he flinched away. Her heart ached with the hurt she knew he felt.
How was he to respond to her advances? What was her goal? Did she want to use him again? He didn’t ask her any of those questions. “Buffy. . . what are you doing?”
“Realizing that life is too short to waste,” she said, allowing the sincerity to show on her face.
Dawn bounded into the kitchen. “Finished!”
Spike’s eyes didn’t leave Buffy’s green ones. She read the twisted conflicting emotions crossing his face and longed to sweep away his confusion with deft fingertips. However, she didn’t move for several seconds, finally tearing her gaze from Spike’s hold on her.
Dawn rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Guys, I’m feeling sleepy again. Shouldn’t we get some sleep before morning?”
Buffy yawned widely and then leaned over to kiss her sister’s cheek. “Yeah. We should. Let’s go to bed.”
“After you take a shower?” Dawn grimaced, rubbing flour off her face.
“Ick. You’re right. After I get a shower and wash my hair.” Buffy glanced over her shoulder at the vampire. “Spike, you need a shower?”
Spike shook his head. “I’ll wash up down here. And get some sleep on the sofa.”
“Okay,” Buffy agreed. “The turkey’s ready for the oven when we get up?”
“Yeah, it is. I’ll make sure to clean up in here, check on the pie, and put the bird in the fridge.”
Buffy patted his chest absentmindedly. “Thank you, Spike.”
Dawn hugged the vampire. “Night, Spike.”
Spike smiled at the girl with affection. “Night, Bit.”
Dawn didn’t protest the nickname and left the kitchen. Buffy trailed after her sister but paused in the doorway.
She faced Spike and caught his eye again. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he whispered half-sadly, half-hopefully.
“Merry Christmas, Spike.” Her eyelids were drooping she was so sleepy.
“Merry Christmas, pet.”
***