Christmas and vampires had never really been something that went hand in hand. All that peace on Earth goodwill to men rubbish had bordered on the nauseating, and its only real benefit had been enough holiday “spirits” made people easy pickings. And carolers were better than delivery.
But Spike was no longer a vampire – not in the strictest sense of the word anyway – and these days, Christmas had a much different meaning than it used to.
He looked down, smiling at the arms reaching for him, tiny hands flexing in the air as if they could draw him in.
Which, to be fair, they could.
“All right, princess, it’s star time.”
The little girl giggled as Spike lifted her up, then dipped her over the couch where the star – not an angel – lay so she could pick grab it. Upright again, she bounced on his hip as he brought her over to the Christmas tree then lifted her over his head. She nibbled her bottom lip, her face suddenly set in serious determination as she carefully placed the star atop the tree.
“Perfect, Annie,” Spike said, kissing the top of the six-year-old’s head as she lowered her trembling arms.
“Lights now, Daddy. Lights!”
Spike turned around, grinning as his four-year-old son ran into the room, dressed in his brand-new Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer footie pajamas. Buffy followed closely behind, and she gave Spike a teasing grin, her eyes sparkling. “You heard the man. Make with the lights, Daddy.”
“Yeah, hold your horses, you impatient lot,” Spike replied. “I’ve gotta make sure it’s all hooked up right.”
Anne spoke up from where she still sat in Spike’s arms. “Mommy says I learned to be impatient from you, Daddy.”
Spike gave a quick glance to his wife and watched as she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. “She did, did she?”
Anne nodded. “Uh huh. And she said one of these days you’re gonna pace so much you’ll fall right through the floor.” She frowned. “Can you do that for real?”
“What do you think?” Spike asked her, his eyebrow arched.
Anne thought about it for a moment before she giggled. “Nooo.” Her expression turned to a mischievous grin that reminded Spike way too much of her mother. “It might be funny if you did, though.”
Spike pretended to be shocked for a moment before he tickled her with his free hand, making the little girl squeal. “Might be funny, huh?” He set her down. “Off with you. I’ve got lights to do.”
Anne ran over to where her mother and brother had since taken a seat on the couch, grabbing hold of Buffy’s hand and leaning over to whisper, “I hope Daddy doesn’t hurt himself again like last year.”
“I heard that,” Spike groused, though he was thinking along the same lines himself. He was fairly certain he’d taken care of the issues of the previous Christmas, but that was a smell he knew he was not forgetting any time soon…
Spike checked and rechecked the connections, even as he was acutely aware of four blue eyes nearly identical to his own – and one pair of bemused green – watching his every move. Finally, he held his breath and flipped the switch.
The lights came on. Nothing caught on fire. He remained un-electrocuted.
Spike relaxed as Anne and Will got off the couch and ran over to the tree, clearly delighted by the finished product.
Buffy made her way over to Spike and slipped into his arms, leaning against his chest. Spike kissed the top of her head, then glanced back over at the kids, watching as Anne took Will’s hand in hers as they both stood mesmerized by the blinking lights. “Look at them,” he whispered nodding towards the children.
She smiled and snuggled closer against him. “We did make adorable little rugrats, didn’t we?”
“We did. They’re especially adorable when they’re quiet.”
Buffy snorted. “Which is just about never. This is clearly a Christmas miracle.”
“Nah, they’re just mesmerized by shiny things. Much like their mother.”
Buffy smacked the arm wrapped around her waist. “I knew you would say something in retaliation for that ‘impatient’ thing. Just waiting for your moment, huh?”
“With you, love, always.”
Buffy turned around, draped her arms over his shoulders, and kissed him. Spike wondered if there would ever come a time when he would stop being in awe that this was his life – that he could stand by a bloody Christmas tree of all things with Buffy in his arms and their two kids close by.
“So,” Buffy said, giving him a quick peck on the lips before she pulled back completely, “are you still planning to take them shopping tomorrow, or have you finally developed a healthy sense of self-preservation?”
Spike chuckled. “I’m taking them. I can’t very well send you to help them pick out your Christmas gifts. Besides, it can’t be any worse than dealing with that horde of Shrieking Mylernian Beasts who tried to nest in Highgate last month.”
“Funny, but I could’ve sworn you said the only thing that could be worse than fighting those off was taking two children under the age of ten Christmas shopping.”
“No, I believe I said the only thing that could be worse was if someone crossbred one of those buggers with Kennedy, but close.”
Buffy snorted. “Don’t give the universe any ideas, Spike.” She moved out of his arms and turned to the kids. “All right, bed time. If you’re going with Dad tomorrow I don’t want him to have to deal with any lack-of-sleep triggered meltdowns.”
Spike bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling as he watched the completely predictable response to Buffy’s announcement. Will quietly toddled over to his mother and took her hand, wiping at his tired eyes. Anne immediately began to pout.
“But I’m not tired. I don’t like going to bed at nighttime, Mommy.”
“Yes, I know, my little bat-child, but you’re going to bed anyway,” Buffy replied, hands on her hips. Sometimes it creeped Spike out a little to hear just how well she’d perfected “Mom Voice.”
“I’m not a bat,” Anne said, her arms crossed over her chest and a mini-Buffy pout firmly in place.
“Well, whatever you are, you’re going to bed,” Spike said, stepping in. He picked Anne up and slung her over his shoulder. “I’m with your mother on the no sleep-deprivation meltdowns. You’re little monsters when you’re well-rested, you don’t need any help from exhaustion.”
Anne shrieked, but didn’t struggle as Spike carried her into her bedroom and dumped her on the bed. She crawled up to her ruffled pink princess pillows and got under the blankets, though she immediately turned and gave her father her most pitiful look. “Not even a bedtime story?”
Before Spike could respond, Will ran into the room, climbed into his sister’s bed, and thrust a book at their father. Spike laughed and took it from him. “I guess this means I’m outnumbered.”
“We’ll be good for shopping, Daddy,” Will promised, his wide, blue eyes making him look every bit as innocent as he claimed.
“Not worried about you, little man,” Spike replied, earning him an indignant snort from his daughter that made him wonder for not the first time if she was actually no more than a tiny clone of her mother. He shook his finger at her and she grinned, the twinkle in her eye making Spike wish those child leash things worked on her. The one time he’d tried, she’d gnawed right through it…
“All right, let’s see what I’m reading here,” Spike said as maneuvered himself between the two children, then looked at the cover of the book. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas. And I suppose I’m to do the voices, too?”
“Yes,” Will said in a tone that was way too definitive for a four-year-old. “Do the scary Grinch.”
“All right, but only because it’s you two.” Spike settled back against the bright pink ruffles and started the story, the two children listening to him intently as he did. He glanced up towards the doorway, winking at Buffy when he saw her standing there, watching them.
She mouthed, “I love you,” and Spike grinned at her.
The meaning of Christmas had definitely changed for him these days…
Buffy sipped her hot chocolate with a smile, curled up against Spike on the couch, the only light in the room that of the flashing colored lights on the tree. “It does look good, honey,” she said as she lowered her mug. “Way better than last year.”
“Well, last year I did fry myself,” Spike pointed out. “That has to give me some sort of pass for the lights not looking their best.”
“What about the year almost all the lights were on one side of the tree?”
“I don’t see you hanging the lights, Slayer.”
“Can’t.”
“And why not?”
“Because that’s men’s work there,” Buffy replied with a grin. “The man hangs the lights. It’s one of the laws of Christmas.”
“Oh really? And who put the lights on the tree when it was just you Summers girls then?”
“We’d pull some man in off the streets.”
Spike chuckled, even as he shook his head. “You know, you’re really lucky I have a thing for crazy women.”
“And you’re lucky I’m willing to put up with a man who took seven years to learn how to put lights on a tree.”
Spike replied with a cocky grin, “Oh you know I’ve got plenty of husbandly skills to more than make up for that.”
Buffy knew she could tease him more, but right then, she’d rather savor a precious kid-free moments with her husband. She set down her mug then took his, the look in her eyes keeping him from protesting the sudden lack of chocolate. “You have lots of husbandly skills,” she replied as she climbed into his lap, straddling his hips and putting her hands against his shoulders.
He ran his hands up the side of her thighs then dipped them beneath her red sweater, caressing her back. “No complaints then?” he asked before leaning in and nipping at the side of her neck.
“You…oh god…so know the answer to that.”
She could feel Spike smiling against her. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like to hear it.”
“You just want me to stroke you ego.”
He moved his mouth up and bit down on her earlobe. “Could stroke my cock if you’d rather.”
“Spike! The kids…”
“Are asleep. Trust me. I’ll hear them in time if they wake up. You know that.”
“What if you don’t? If they walk in and find their parents having sex under the Christmas tree, they’ll be scarred for life.”
“Then you better be really quiet, baby,” Spike said, his tongue curling against his teeth. He swallowed her squeak with a quick kiss when he stood up and carried her over to the tree, laying her down against the rug.
Buffy looked up, watched the lights flashing on the tree mere inches away, and shook her head. “There’s something very wrong about this.”
“Why?” Spike asked, rocking back onto his knees. “See, I’m thinking I got exactly what I wanted for Christmas and now I get to unwrap my present.”
“Yeah, and this is sooo getting you on the naughty list.”
“Better make it worth it then.” He gave her a stern look. “And keep it down or I’m shoving the garland in your mouth.”
Buffy laughed, even as she replied with, “Don’t you dare.”
“Guess I’ll just have to keep you quiet some other way,” he said as he covered her body with his and kissed her. A soft moan escaped her as she brought her hands up to tangle in his hair, keeping him close against her.
Finally, Spike pulled back, his hands caressing her as he moved to take off her sweater. He paused for a moment, listening for the sounds of deep sleep elsewhere in the flat, then slid down her jeans, leaving her in her underwear. He sat back on his haunches, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at her spread out for him, the lights from the tree playing against her bare skin.
Spike knew he couldn’t really drag things out – not where they were – but he wanted to worship her, show her how beautiful she was to him.
Buffy raised herself up on her elbows and frowned when he made no more moves towards her after taking off her clothes. “There’s stopping. Why is there stopping?”
“I…” Spike swallowed as he brushed her hair off her forehead. “You’re gorgeous, love.”
“Yeah?” She flashed him a mischievous grin. “Then make with the ravishing already. No fun in just unwrapping your present and not playing with it, so hop to it.”
“My present is bossy.”
“Your present is going to be cranky if the kids wake up and you didn’t get her off.”
“Right then. Wouldn’t want that,” Spike said right before he grabbed her hips and roughly tugged her to his mouth.
Buffy bit her lip hard as he began to lick her through the silk of her panties, his nose bumping against her clit. In seven years of marriage – the majority of which they’d spent as the parents of young children – he’d gotten damn good at jumping right to what she needed.
He growled against her, managing to drive her completely insane even with the barrier of silk between his tongue and her pussy. Spike moved his mouth up slightly, nipping at her clit, and Buffy’s eyes rolled back in her head, her hand darting out and narrowly missing the ornaments on the tree.
He nipped at her again, harder this time, and she came with a strangled gasp.
But it wasn’t enough, and she licked her lips as he moved back again and unbuttoned his jeans to pull his cock out into his hands. Spike yanked her underwear down, leaving it dangling on her ankle as he lined himself up with her entrance and pushed forward.
Buffy had no illusions about this being slow lovemaking. Spike had clearly taken what she’d said to heart, and his hard, rough strokes were just what she needed. She scratched at the floor, her hand finding purchase with the tree skirt and she dug in, red fibers embedding themselves beneath her nails. She was close, so close… If he would just…
He shifted slightly, just enough to change the angle of his thrusts, and Buffy leaned up and bit down on his cotton-covered shoulder to stifle her moan of release.
Spike cursed softly with a harsh puff of breath and came moments after her.
For several moments, Buffy lay still on the floor, panting as she struggled to get her breathing back to normal with Spike stretched out on her. He breathed against her ear, turning his face every now and then to nuzzle against her.
Finally, he pulled back, his eyes darkening with lust again as he took in the sight of her – bare except for her bra and the panties still on her ankle, her thighs damp and glistening in the low light – and she wasn’t surprised when he got to his feet only to grab her, sling her over his shoulder, and carry her off to their bedroom.
It looked like it wouldn’t be the kids who were tired tomorrow after all…