Summary: A Christmas fic I thought of last week when I was home in bed from school, sick. And yes, I am aware that this is my 2nd Christmas fic in a week! But both ideas wouldn't leave me, so...
Distribution: my update group: www.groups.yahoo.com/group/BeautifulDesire, my B/A group: www.groups.yahoo.com/group/BlindedbyPassion. If you want it on your site, just ask!
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: um... all of Buffy s7 & Angel s4 up to Christmas Eve 2003. Oh, and Darla was never brought back by W&H, so obviously no Connor, and Cordelia is not evil, nor is there any beast in LA yet.
Disclaimer: I wish! Lyrics are "All I Want For Christmas" by Mariah Carey.
Pairings: B/A, hints of C/A
Feedback: You know I love it!
Dedication: To all my girls, they know who they are, love you all! Hope you have a great Christmas!!

Christmas Eve 2003, Los Angeles

Angel's gaze landed on the decorated Christmas tree in the foyer of The Hyperion as he limped in the door, battle-axe splattered with bright green demon blood in one hand. He reached the counter, and gently laid his favourite axe on it. He winced as he shrugged out of his leather duster, and looked at the various holes dotting it from demon's bites and swords.

"Another one ruined," he muttered, tossing it in the bin.

"Did you kill it?" He spun around to see Cordelia Chase walk down the staircase. "The demon, I mean," she amended. He nodded.

"There was more than one... who did all of this?" he asked, gesturing to the decorated hotel.

"Oh, me and Fred," Cordelia said, dismissing his question with a wave of her manicured hand. "More than one?"

"Yeah, there were five," Angel answered, walking slowly over to the tall tree, which was adorned with strings of newly purchased white lights and countless ornaments.

"You and Fred managed to decorate all this in the few hours I was gone?" Angel asked.

"Well... no," Cordelia admitted, with a small grin. "We kinda guilted Wes and Gunn into helping." Angel chuckled. He had to admit, it was beautiful, but it just wasn't him. His plan for Christmas was the same as always: brood in his study with an old picture of Buffy that he'd end up staring at for ages, then ring her house just to hear her voice. He then would go out after sunset to slay demons and wouldn't return until just before dawn. He sighed, and realised Cordelia was talking to him.

"-Get out of those clothes, into bed, and I'll bring you a hot cup of blood." He nodded and went upstairs. Several minutes later, he exited his private bathroom adjoining his bedroom, clad only in a pair of silk boxers, and gasped softly. Sprawled on his bed was Cordelia, a steaming mug beside her on the bedside table. She rose and walked slowly towards him.

"I thought maybe I could sleep here tonight?" she murmured, looking up into his eyes.

* * *

Lorne hummed as he searched Angel's kitchen cupboards for something to help him sleep, preferably alcoholic. He switched off the light, and began to mount the stairs, when he heard an almost silent voice singing outside. Curious, he crept slowly towards the front doors.

* * *

Buffy parked her car and sighed. This was it. She slowly stepped out of the car and looked up at the dark hotel. She tried to guess which floor Angel's room was on.

"Angel?" she called out softly. "Can you hear me?" She moved away from the front doors and was at the gate, when something compelled her to stop.

"It's the end of the line for me," she murmured. "I'm lost without you. If you were there… it would only be the beginning…" Suddenly, she began to sing in an almost inaudible voice.

I don't want a lot for Christmas
There's just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is... you

She sighed, and getting in her car, she drove to see her last sunrise.

* * *

The shrill tone of his bedside phone woke Angel from a dreamless slumber. Groaning, he grabbed the phone.

"Hello?" he mumbled.

"Angelcakes!" Lorne exclaimed.

"Lorne?" Angel murmured disbelievingly. "Where are you?"

"Down in the foyer, where you should be ASAP!"

"Apocalypse?" Angel asked softly.

"No. I've been all wrong about this. Cordelia isn't your kyrumption, she is!"

"She?" Angel asked.

"Buffy." Angel sat up straight in the bed, all traces of fatigue vanished.

"Well anyway, she's gonna do something, something not good. I heard her singing there outside the hotel to you, and it looks like it's the end of the road for her." Cold, icy fear gripped Angel in the gut as he sprang out of the bed. He was dressed and ready to go in less than a minute. Reaching the door of his suite, he froze and looked over his shoulder as Cordelia stirred in her sleep, but thankfully didn't wake. He sprinted down the hallway and sailed over the banister to land on his feet in the foyer, startling Lorne.

"Jesus, Angel-" Lorne started.

"Where is she?" Angel growled through gritted fangs. Lorne sobered up. He walked out to the street, Angel following.

"She drove that way," Lorne told the uneasy vampire, pointing down the street. Angel nodded curtly. He ran back into the hotel, and within two minutes, the Plymouth sped past Lorne, a cloud of smoke left in its wake. Lorne coughed.

"Good luck pumpkin," he whispered, before walking back into the hotel.

* * *

Angel, following his gut, found himself at Santa Monica Pier. Surprise crossed his features as he stepped out of his car. He had to be wrong. But, no… he squinted, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, picked out a lone figure standing at the edge of the pier where thrashing waves and sharp, jagged rocks lay below. He ran as quietly as possible, hoping it wasn't her. But it was.

"Buffy," he murmured softly. She spun around, her eyes wide, her arms hugging herself tightly. He cursed inwardly. He didn't mean for her to hear him.

"You're shivering," he said, taking a small step forward. She threw her head back and laughed.

"Well, duh," she said, a cold smile on her lips. "That is what happens when you're only wearing your pajamas and a jacket." His leather jacket, he thought with pride, before dismissing the thought. There were more important things to deal with… including the imminent dawn, he realized, that would take place any minute.

"Buffy, come here," he ordered calmly.

"No!" she shouted, covering her ears with her hands. "Just… leave me alone." He allowed himself a step closer, and her head snapped up.

"You can't save them all, Angel," she whispered, as the sun began to rise. He flung his arms across his face.

"Angel!" He heard her scream. He looked up to meet her wild, frightened gaze. She reached out her hand, as she began to turn into a bright ball of blinding light. When it disappeared, he felt his blood rushing through his veins, and his heating beating madly. Sinking to his knees, he screamed.

"NO!"

* * *

Angel sat up in bed, his whole body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Looking at his watch, he saw it was after 5am, which left about three more hours of darkness. It had just been a bad dream. Glancing to his right, he saw the bed empty, and remember what had really happened last night.

Flashback

"I thought maybe I could stay here tonight?" she murmured. His eyes wide, Angel backed away.

"I'm sorry, Cordy, I really am, but I just don't see you in that way," he whispered. "What happened this year was me needing comfort because I couldn't-can't have Buffy." Cordelia's eyes briefly hardened at the mention of the Slayer's name, and she sighed.

"I understand," she said, walking up to him and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Angel," she murmured, leaving the room.

End Flashback

A determined look on his face, Angel began searching for something in his closet.

* * *

Buffy had the house to herself from late Christmas Eve to Christmas Day. Giles, using the Councils funds, had booked everyone into a luxury hotel for a well-needed break for a night. Buffy declined the offer, and stayed up watching cheesy, Christmas, family movies. At 1am, she then settled onto the sofa, and began to read a book she had been meaning to read for ages. Ten minutes later, she was fast asleep.

* * *

He reached Sunnydale in less than two hours. Thankfully, there had been very little vehicles on the roads. As he neared Revello Drive, he grew nervous. What right had he to just barge into Sunnydale, like he was still a major part of her life? She was probably snuggled up with some normal boyfriend in her bed. He growled, his eyes flashing gold. He'd take his chances, and hey, if she was in bed with Mr. Normal, well, it would be his duty to kick his ass. He grinned for a moment at that thought, but it faded as 1630 Revello Drive came into view. He brought the car to a halt in the driveway beside a familiar car. He closed the car door, and slowly made his way to the front door.

* * *

Buffy was still sleeping when someone knocking on her door woke her. She just about caught the mug of now-cold chocolate that threatened to spill from her lap onto the carpet, and cursed. She rose from the sofa and slowly trudged towards the front door. Buffy groaned as the pounding on the door sounded again, this time more loudly.

"If that's Giles and a date with an apocalypse, he's SO gonna have to reschedule," she mumbled, stopping in front of the door. She became suspicious. Who comes knocking at your door at 7am? Demons, that's who. Not that I've had encounters with early risers, but still, she thought, eyeing a nearby stake within arms reach. The pounding on the door sounded again. She swung the door open.

"Alright, I'm-" the rest of her sentence was cut short as she found herself in a passionate kiss, with such intensity that her toes curled in delight. When she pulled back, a little dazed, she had to blink twice.

"Angel?" She looked on in shock as he got down on one knee and produced a small velvet box.

"Will you marry me?" Her eyes widened.

"Okay, you are Angel, right?" Buffy joked, although inside she was shaking. He nodded, his gaze unwavering.

"Will you marry me?" he repeated.

"I… I don't know what to say," she murmured.

"Don't say you've a normal boyfriend in your bed, and that'll be a start." She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "It was an insecurity of mine, okay?" He took an unnecessary deep breath, and asked her one last time.

"Will you marry me, yes or no?" Her face broke out into a beautiful smile.

"Yes," she murmured. "Yes!" He grinned, and stood, opening the box to reveal…

"My Claddagh ring," she sighed.

"I found it in the mansion before I packed up most of my things when I left. I've had it all this time," he told her in a soft voice. She looked up at him, her eyes misting.

"Now, I know I can't give you children, or-" Suddenly, he found himself lying on his back on the floor, Buffy straddling him.

"Don't. Don't start all that," she told him. "What about all the things you can give me?"

"The curse-"

"If Willow has enough power to be able to destroy the world, then a soul binding should be a piece of cake. Giles can help too." She paused for a moment. "Think of it as a Christmas gift." She looked down at him.

"For the time being, that will be a no-no, but," she said, a seductive smile on her lips, "why don't we focus on the things we can do, hmm?" Angel somehow found the strength to shut and lock the front door before pouncing on her.

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