AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: as usual, I own no one.

RATING: at least R-ish; maybe more.

PAIRING: W/A for this one.

DISTRIBUTION: anywhere with fic of mine, and my own site...

FEEDBACK: will tell me whether I should make this into a 'Holidays' series...

DEDICATIONS: to Jeannette, as always, for all her hard work on 'Day, Night, and Eternity'. Still love the site, chica; miss you!!!*g*

NOTES: Just a little one-off, unless people want more. As usual, * * within the body of the fic= emphasis. There is no baby Connor in this story, although Angel and Darla still indulged in that wild romp of theirs. Maybe it's just me, but... I can't accept the whole 'two corpses having sex= one human baby' thing. Not for this fic, anyway.

SPOILERS: ALL of it, I think!!!

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Part 1

"Aramat. Aramat. Goddess and friend to the lovelorn." Her hand stretched out over the small fire, and she stared up at the stars she could see through the treetops of her clearing as she cast the sacred herbs upon the tiny blaze to complete her spell. "I beg that it be done as I incanted; that it fly without fail, and show me my love."

She closed her eyes as the fire shot up to the lower branches, fortunately not setting any trees ablaze. "On this Solstice eve, my words are heard, my intent made known to the forces of light. Aramat. Aramat. Aramat. As I will it, so mote it be."

Her eyes opened as the ambient firelight faded to its normal proportions, and she remained sitting crosslegged beside the slowly dying flames until finally they burned out.

It was a matter of minutes before she'd thrown dirt over the slightly glowing embers, and only seconds later she drew the power of her circle back within herself, allowing part of that strength of purpose to sink into the earth as a thank you to the Goddess.

Her knees ached from the position she'd held for more than three hours, but then again, pain wasn't unexpected. It was part of the price for the benevolence of the Goddess she'd called upon, after all. She walked back towards the lights of town, slowly losing the stiffness in her joints.

With any luck, she thought, she'd see some signs the next day... the day of the Winter Solstice.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The blonde girl frowned deeply at the noon-time sun, scowling as she made her way to her best friend's apartment. It was almost Christmas, and all she could think about was the fact that this would be her first *real* holiday since she'd been dragged back into the world.

It didn't *feel* like a holiday; no more than Thanksgiving had. Of course, during that time in November, she'd been dealing with that song-and-dance demon Xander had called for, so none of them had actually gotten around to celebrating, and... she was glad. How could she be thankful for anything when almost every part of her heart wished she'd been left in that other world where she'd been so happy?

Still, Christmas. A time of joy, and love, and good will towards men; a time of peace, and wishing only the best things for the world and people around you. It was almost impossible for her to remember a time when she'd understood what that was like-- what it was like to *feel* that way.

Her problem, she knew, was that... none of those things truly mattered; especially not after she'd discovered the truth of what the world really was. It was sharp, and jagged, and rough. Cold, and harsh, and... nothing she really wanted to experience anymore. Those feelings weren't made any less intense by the fact of her and... *Spike*.

She'd fucked up, she knew. Fucked up, then fucked down, then... She groaned loudly, ignoring the strange looks the sound earned her from the holiday-happy people passing in the opposite direction. As much as she wanted to deny it, the bleached bastard was right. Vampires *did* get her hot; especially ones who couldn't or wouldn't harm humans.

And that was the rest of her problem. Spike could hurt her. He could hit her, throw her across a room, beat her black and blue, and... it was the second thing he'd ever been right about. She *wasn't* exactly human anymore, and she didn't quite know how to deal with that.

The plastic bag she was carrying whacked lightly against her knee and she pulled herself from her thoughts, only to find that she'd arrived. She sighed softly and started up the front walk, using the key her friend had given her to enter the building. She'd tried until nearly three a.m. to reach the girl, only to get the machine every time, and while she truly wanted to believe that Willow had been asleep, she just... didn't. She knew the redhead too well for that. Her friends had never slept for more than five hours at a stretch in all the years she'd known her.

She almost thought she should be worried about what the other girl had been up to, but she truly believed Willow when she said she'd be careful with the magic, and Buffy knew for a fact that Rak wasn't in town any longer-- in *any* town. That stinking bit of garbage was just that. A small smear of darkly glistening ooze on the sidewalk-- or he had been, until the rain had washed his remains away. No, if Willow'd been doing magic, it wasn't of the dark variety, and that was good enough for her.

She smiled slightly as she let herself into the redhead's apartment, and she pulled her gift from her bag as she perched on the edge of the other girl's bed. "Merry Christmas, and Happy late-Hannukah!" she cried, surprised to find that her smile wasn't at all forced. She waved her hand in front of Willow's sleepy eyes. "Look what I got you, Will!"

Willow blinked a few times in confusion, but finally managed to focus on what her friend was showing her. "It's... an angel?" She struggled from her cocoon of blankets, finally sitting up and staring at Buffy curously. "Why did you get me an angel? I'm Jewish, remember? Well, Jewish and Wiccan..."

Buffy shrugged, her grin growing wider. "I don't know. I saw it in the store window this morning, and," she shrugged again, "It just seemed like it was yours."

Willow forced herself to just accept her friend's words, and jumped slightly when she finally noticed the clock. "Oh, Gods! It's almost one o'clock!" she cried, leaping from her bed. "I'm taking your sister for a movie and burger at two!"

The blonde chuckled slightly as she watched the witch dash about the room, thrilled to see her friend doing things the *normal* way, instead of just... *casting*. It was the only good thing to come out of the 'accident' she and Dawn had had. "Relax, Will," she said, placing the porcelain and silk angel on Willow's pillow as she stood up, "The cinema's like two blocks away; you have plenty of time." She moved out into the living room, and turned on the television as she waited for her friend to dress, and barely noticed it at first when she sat down on the couch as the matinee movie was interrupted for a special weather report. Her eyes grew wide as she heard the words.

'And in a freak weather phenomenon, it looks like Sunnydale, California is going to actually have a white Christmas for the second time in recorded history.'

One thing Buffy remembered better than almost anything else was the last time it had snowed, and her mind turned quickly to her former boyfriend. He'd been everything she'd thought she wanted, but... maybe it was going to Heaven and being brought back that had her suddenly realizing that they'd never had a chance; not even at the beginning. His whole curse aside, they were never the right fit, and... they never would have been-- no more than she and Riley were, back before he'd left.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He hated this time of year. Hated it wildly, and passionately, and desperately. He hated it just as much as he'd loved it when he'd been human.

The smiles, and the joy, and the sense of good things coming. The carols, and happy glances, and the constant 'God bless'-es. How *could* God bless him? After the things he'd done? And mostly... mostly, he hated being so alone.

It was a fairly recent feeling, but he'd grown used to having his humans around, and... they were all gone for the holidays. Wes was in England, Gunn was spending time with his people, and even Fred had gone back to Texas for her first Christmas with her family since she'd come back from Pylea. Even Cordelia was gone, having decided to take Wesley up on his offer of 'a good, old-fashioned English Christmas', although Angel was fairly sure the girl was supposed to keep the elder Mister Wyndham-Price from emotionally abusing the younger.

He honestly didn't begrudge them some time away, but... it left him sitting alone in the dark, remembering that Christmas in Sunnydale. He'd been haunted, and tried, and tested in more ways than he'd ever dreamed possible. He'd been torn, and broken, and ultimately almost destroyed before Buffy had made it her business to pull him back from that edge, and he would always owe her for that.

It had bothered him that he'd never had the chance to pay her back. It still bothered him that the best way he'd been able to find of saying thank you was leaving her, but... there had been nothing else he could do. He'd loved her, yes, but... not the way he should have. It didn't kill him to leave. It didn't even kill him when she'd died for the second time. It was that, more than anything else, that convinced him that... while she'd been a very important part of his life, she *wasn't* his life.

Angel sighed and shifted in his chair, the darkness pressing in on him like a fluffy cotton shroud. This was pointless, he realized. He was rehashing things that could never be changed, and dwelling on the way his 'life' hadn't turned out the way he'd hoped as a child, and all because... it was Christmas. "Fine," he said out loud, the sound of his own voice making him jump slightly, "I'll just ignore the holiday competely."

It was a good thought, but there was still that niggling little thought at the back of his head that urged him to examine the past some more. "I'm not allowed to have bad thoughts in my head," he told himself, smiling when he remembered a similar phrase being spoken to him years earlier, only then it had been a cute little redhead talking, and the words 'boys' and 'room' had figured prominently.

Just the thought of Willow as she'd been then caused his smile to grow to truly immense proportions, and he stood, swiftly crossing the lobby to the desk he used. He pulled the bottom drawer open, and drew out the small photo album he kept of his Sunnydale days.

"Willow," he said softly, turning to the one picture he had of the two of them together. It had been taken at the Bronze by some guy with a brand-new digital camera, and he actually remembered the ocassion very well. He'd been looking for Buffy, of course, but had found Willow instead. She'd made him feel comfortable, even attempting a small joking sallay about his vampiric nature, and she'd actually had him laughing by the time Buffy had arrived. Willow had always been a good friend to him; even after his bout of Angelus-itis, as Cordelia called it.

He wondered deeply about how the redhead was. He'd heard she had a girlfriend, which didn't exactly surprise him since he'd met the vampire version of her that time, but... he'd also heard that that hadn't worked out, and that she'd spent some time toying with forces she shouldn't have. "I should have kept in better touch," he admitted. Still, Spike had been very good about sharing information, even if it *was* just for the money. "I should call her," he decided; "I *will* call her.

He reached for the phone and dialed her number, not even questioning the fact that he knew it by heart, even though he'd never used it. He frowned slightly and hung up when her machine picked up. "I'll try her again tomorrow."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dawn giggled while Willow went on and on about how shocked she was that the Sunnydale Cinema had cancelled the matinee showing of 'Lord of the Rings' to play 'Michael' instead. "Oh, come on, Will," she exclaimed, almost whacking the older girl with her cast, "It was cool! I mean, who would ever think an *angel* would act like that?" The brunette laughed, remembering the scene in the bar. "That's one angel who could *dance*. Not that I'd want to see anyone doing that at the Bronze, but..." she shrugged, "He just seemed more *real* than what they say angels are supposed to be like, I guess. I liked it."

Willow rolled her eyes, but chuckled a bit, herself. "Yeah, okay, Dawny," she finally answered, "But don't expect to run across one like him anytime soon."

The former key laughed some more, but nodded. "Like I think there's angels just wandering around, anyway. C'mon, Will, I'm fifteen, not five."

The two continued their friendly bickering as they strolled down the street towards the restaurant they were going to have dinner at, finally stopping when they arrived.

The waitress stared oddly at the two young women who couldn't seem to stop giggling, but they weren't asking for any alcohol, so she finally decided to ignore it. She brought them their drinks-- a diet soda for the older one, and a chocolate shake for the younger-- and took their orders.

Willow watched the woman walk away, wondering why she wasn't even a little bit interested; after all, the waitress-- with her long blonde hair and bright hazel eyes-- was exactly her type. Still, she supposed it didn't matter. Her spell would make everything clear eventually. "So we're still doing Christmas dinner at your house?" she asked her young friend.

Dawn nodded quickly, trying to suck the thick milkshake through the woefully inadequate straw. "Yeah, but there's so many of us, we might have to eat outside." Her eyes widened as the little boy-- only eleven or twelve-- seated behind her jumped into the conversation.

"You can't," the boy said smugly. "It's gonna snow." He glared when both the women laughed and he stuck his bottom lip out. "My mom heard it on the news. Me an' my dad are gonna make snow-angels." And with that he turned away, his entire posture screaming 'so there'!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

All he knew was that he had to get the hell out of Sunnydale before he made an even bigger fool of himself over the Slayer. Sure, their one night together in that fallen-down building had been amazing, but... the hope of a repeat performance wasn't worth the shit she was putting him through. Besides, now that he'd had her, he was almost entirely sure that he'd been deluded when he'd managed to convince himself he loved her. After all, his Sire was a vampire, and look at how well *that* had turned out!

He glanced angrily around his crypt, fingers clenching and relaxing as he considered it. "Yeah," he shouted after a few minutes, "Sod this mess; I'm out of here!" Only question was... to where?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was almost five o'clock, and she'd still had no sign of who, exactly, her love was. She'd just delivered Dawn safely home, but had begged off on hanging out, worried that she might miss whatever it was that was supposed to clue her. Her steps lagged as she took her time walking to her apartment, and for the first time, she was glad that she'd moved out of Buffy's house after almost getting Dawny killed. At least she didn't have to explain what it was she was looking for.

Still, the trip to her place was over far too quickly, and she sighed as she stepped into her living room. "I guess I don't deserve to be loved," she whispered, shrugging off the light jacket she'd worn. She checked her answering machine, brow furrowing slightly when the caller ID showed a number she didn't recognize. She quickly dialed it, only to hang up when the machine on that end answered in Cordelia's voice. "Oh, Gods," she moaned, "What now?"

There had to be something wrong, and she knew it. Why else would Cordy have called and not left a message? Why else would there be no answer at Angel Investigations? Something must have happened-- something that required the services of a witch. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, even as she pulled her jacket back on and ran through her front door.

She had to get to LA, and she knew just who could help her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He'd still been brooding when the lobby door had flown open, and his eyes had grown incredibly wide when he saw who had just raced into the cavernous main room. "Cordelia!?" he'd demanded, not at all surprised to find himself suddenly in front of her and hugging her hard. "I thought you were in England!?"

Cordy had just laughed and rolled her eyes as she pulled herself from his relieved yet happy embrace. "I *was*," she replied ascerbically, "Right up until Wes's dad put something called 'Spotted *Dick*' on the table. Couldn't get out of there fast *enough* after that!" She'd looked around the dark, forbidding-looking lobby, and sighed teasingly. "And good thing, too," she sighed. Her arms crossed and she stared up into her vampire friend's eyes. "Get your coat," she demanded, "We're going*out*." She'd shook her head when he tried to object, and frowned until he fell silent. "I'm willing to bet that you haven't set foot from this hotel since we all left. Well, it's time you *did*. Now get your coat. We're going to Caritas."

And that had been the end of that.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"*No,*" he snarled, backing away from the redhead. "There's no bloody way I'm going to Los Angeles to help out my great sodding pouf of a Sire. Not a fucking chance in *Hell*!" He could hardly even believe she was asking such a thing. After the way bloody Angelus had treated him? "Not a chance, pet," he insisted.

Willow sighed and reached into her pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. "So I guess you don't want a thousand dollars, then..." she said sadly, well aware of Spike's financial problems. "That's too bad." She sighed softly, and started to put the roll of bills back into her pocket, glad that it had been Friday, and her bank stayed open until seven p.m. so she'd been able to get the temptation she just *knew* Spike wouldn't be able to resist.

His hand darted out to stop her before he could even consider the matter, and by then it was too late. He could *smell* the money; picture the forty siamese he could get with it if he shopped in the right places. "Fine," he spat, exasperated, "I'll take you to see sodding Angel." His eyes narrowed and he glared hotly at her. "But I'm not gonna get myself killed for a measly grand, luv."

She nodded and stepped back. "Understood, Spike." She wasn't terribly happy when he told her to wait for him; nor was she thrilled when he finally returned and led her to a small black sports car. Still, she needed to get to LA, so... "Let's go," she ordered, once she was settled in the passenger seat and fastened in. She gazed out of the windshield in wonder as they passed the town lines and small shimmering bits began striking the glass. "Look, Spike," she said breathlessly, "Solstice snow..."

The vampire rolled his eyes and pressed down harder on the accelerator. 'Solstice snow' indeed. Like that was something bloody *special*. "Let's just get you to Angel, Red," he muttered, turning the windshield wipers on.
 

Part 2

The hotel was dark, and silent when they pulled up out front, and Willow was fairly sure that that didn't bode well. She became even more certain when they climbed from the car to discover the doors locked tightly. Her hands cupped against the glass, and she tried to see inside, only to be frustrated by the lack of clarity. "Something's wrong, Spike," she nearly whispered, afraid there might be something around to hear her.

The vampire rolled his eyes and harumphed a few times. "Yeah, right, witch. Like the sodding pouf couldn't just be out?" He groaned softly at her disbelieving glare, then shrugged. "Okay, so that was stupid. Something's wrong." Hell, even *he* knew that Broody the Wonder Git wasn't the sort to have any fun, and he doubted the big, lumbering bloke was on a case, what with his entire staff being absent. "Fine, Red," he went on, cocking a fist back.

"Wait!" the girl cried, catching his wrist, "What are you *doing*?"

Spike's entire expression seemed to scream 'duh', but he stopped and looked at her quickly. "I'm getting us into this bleedin' hotel, aren't I? Or did you want to just sit around outside? Either way works for me." He forced himself to sound indifferent, but truthfully, he wanted in, himself. He might hate the great sorry wanker, but... Poncey was still his Sire, after all.

Willow just shook her head, well aware of the fact that Spike cared. He had to. Hell, she was almost entirely sure that he'd have driven her to LA for much less... like gas money. Still, "Let me try before you go breaking any glass, okay? I mean, those doors look expensive, and if I'm wrong about there being trouble..."

His white-blond hair glowed in the streetlight, even as he nodded and stepped back. "Fine, pet," he agreed, silently acknowledging that his Sire was just the sort of prick to make him pay for the repairs to his precious 'home' if he broke anything. "Have at it, then."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He was actually glad that he'd given in to Cordelia's command, because he wasn't having anything like as bad a time as he'd expected. Of course, that might have been because his Seer's voice was even worse than his own. He chuckled quietly and took another sip of his beer as the girl butchered yet another Sarah MacLachlan song. He had no idea of what Cordy was hoping to find out by 'performing', but then again, he figured it wasn't any of his business. "Nice set," he smirked, when the brunette returned to their table.

Cordelia snorted, knowing he was both lying through his teeth and teasing her. "Yeah, well let's see you do any better," she said, annoyance clear in her tone, "And, actually, let's hear it right *now*." She pointed to the small stage, where Lorne stood beconing the vampire, a look of pained sufferance on his face. "It's all arranged; now get up there, Angel!"

The vampire groaned deeply, but stood, nonetheless. Cordelia had come back from England to save him from spending a miserable holiday all alone, her comment about 'Spotted Dick' aside; the least he could do was sing a song to lessen her humiliation. His steps were slow and measured as he approached the stage, and he forced a look of enjoyment onto his face as he took the microphone and waited to see just which song his sometimes vindictive Seer had chosen for him. He only hoped it wouldn't be *too* difficult.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He'd checked every floor of the old dusty pile of stone his Sire had moved into, and not only hadn't he found the sodding prick, he'd seen no sign of anything even slightly amiss. Still, he figured, as he strolled casually down the main staircase, returning to the lobby... at least this little trip hadn't been a complete loss. He'd made himself a nice chunk of change, after all. Maybe enough that he wouldn't have to go back to Sunnyhell at all. Of course, there was no way he was going to *rent* a place in LA, but... maybe there were some decent cemeteries. Not ones with the rich of famous in them, of course, because he could just imagine the lack of privacy, what with the way most mortals were celebrity-obsessed, but he'd look into it. A small smile graced his lips, even as he crossed the floor to the office door behind the front desk. "Any luck, pet?" he asked, leaning in the doorway and staring at the dejected-looking redhead sitting behind the desk.

Willow shook her head, small frustrated tears at the corners of her eyes. "Nothing," she admitted sadly. "I checked the in-box, the out-box; I even checked the answering machine, but... no clue about what could have happened."

"Well, maybe the mighty pouf finally ran into the wrong end of a stake, then; it's dusty enough in here that we'd never know," Spike purred, noting with interest the sudden increase of the girl's heartbeat. "Kidding, luv," he announced, when she looked like she might start sobbing. "I'm sure the pathetic git's just off somewhere having himself a good long brood."

It took her a few minutes to find her voice, all the while wondering why the thought of Angel's demise left her with such an aching void in her chest. "You're probably right," she finally allowed, standing and moving towards him. "I was just being stupid. I mean, for all I know, Cordy just called to say Merry Christmas, and didn't feel like leaving a message."

Spike chuckled and threw his arm over her shoulder. "Doubt that, pet," he said smoothly, turning then to the lobby doors once more, "What with the May Queen being in jolly old, I mean."

"I'm sorry. Cordelia's what? Cordelia's where?"

The vampire smirked slightly, but nodded. "Cheerleader's gone to England for the holidays, Red; thought you knew." And that made more sense, seeing as the witch was attracted to the girly-types. Of course, it still didn't explain why she'd been so worried for the sodding prat. "No," he went on, "I'm guessing it's just Peaches in this great bloody echoing cave these days."

Willow sighed once more and rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, thankful for the comfort he offered, even if he *would* rather drink her. "So I guess I really *was* being stupid." She pulled away and started for the door. "And now that I feel like an idiot, I guess we can go home."

He was about to answer when he saw the door opening behind her, and he rushed forward, not sure if the figure entering was friend or foe, stopping only when he recognized the scent blowing in on the slight breeze. "Oh, bloody hell," he muttered, "Friend *and* foe." His entire body tensed as his eyes locked with those of the other vampire. "Fancy meeting you here."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He was still glowering over the fact that Cordelia had made him sing 'Smooth' at the bar. At least half the demons there that night knew about his past relationship with the Slayer, and that she had died and come back, and... just the knowledge that they thought he'd chosen the song himself had him livid. That his Seer couldn't figure out what had made him so angry just made it even more clear that he should never had let the girl drag him out. He should have stayed home and read a book, or brooded, or maybe called Willow again. His eyes narrowed as he climbed from his car and noticed the sleek black vehicle parked in front of the hotel. He didn't recognize the car. He moved stealthily to the lobby doors, his mouth tightening into a grim line when he saw the lock was disengaged, and when he pushed through into the building, his eyes were glowing golden. That glow intensified when he saw the bleached blonde standing across the way. "Spike," he hissed, in response to the younger man's arrogant words.

Something inside her was leaping happily at just the sight of him, and Willow couldn't help smiling broadly at the dark-haired vampire. "Angel!" she cried, flinging herself at him, "You're all right!" Her hands travelled quickly over him, looking for wounds, and she laughed wildly when she didn't find any, then flung her arms around him in a tight hug. She could feel the stunned tension in the long lines of him, but couldn't manage to make herself let go of him. "I was so worried," she babbled against his chest. "I got home, and your number was on the machine, and then I called you, and no one was here, and I thought... I don't know what I thought, but I made Spike bring me here, and... You're all right!" She was panting slightly from all the words coming out on one breath, but she still giggled when he relaxed and hugged her back. "You... you *are* all right, aren't you, Angel?"

And she still had the power to make him smile. Whatever else might have changed about the surprisingly grown-up woman in his arms, that much had apparently remained constant. "I'm fine, Will," he murmured, holding her just a bit more tightly. His eyes closed as they faded back to their usual brown, and he smiled even more broadly. "I just... I called to see how you were doing, but... you know. I don't like those machines, so..." He shrugged, finally letting go of her. "So you made Spike bring you, huh?" He gazed consideringly at the fidgeting blond, wondering what the boy was up to; he looked entirely too amused for it to be anything good. "I'll bet *that* cost you."

Spike rolled his eyes at the magnificently poufy shape of his Sire. Obviously the great sodding pissant didn't recognize his reaction to the witch for what it was. Of course, the cute little chit didn't seem any more aware of her own behaviour towards the souled prick, and why in the hell should he care, anyway? As long as they stayed in the dark, that crazed version of Angelus wouldn't be coming around again any time soon, and that was all to the good as far as Spike was concerned. That the prick hadn't staked him yet was also a good thing. "Yeah," he said after a moment, "Well, Red, here, seemed to think you were worth it, fuck knows why. C'mon, Will," he went on, turning his attention back to the redhead, "Broody seems fine; let's go home."

It was the thought that she might leave so soon that had him doing something he'd never even considered. "No!" he almost shouted, "You can't!" And even Willow was looking at him funny now, he realized. "I... I mean, didn't you just get here? It seems kind of... silly... to drive all this way just to turn around and go back." His mind raced, seeking an excuse, and he found himself shocked when his demon provided one. Shocked, but grateful. "It's almost Christmas," he said, barely keeping the desperate edge out of his voice. His hands fastened gently on the redhead's shoulders and he stared hopefully at her blushing face. "Stay for Christmas, Willow? And you too, I guess," he added, the last directed to the bottle blond.

She'd honestly never even thought he'd ask; mostly because-- as she'd told Buffy-- she was Jewish, and Wiccan to boot, but... He sounded so lonely, all of a sudden, and somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to say no. Of course, Spike had brought her, so he got a say in things, too, but... "Spike?" she asked, not noticing the pleading tone of her own voice as she continued to stare into Angel's eyes.

The blond rolled his eyes one more time, but... Willow was the only one of them all whom he could truly stand, his odd infatuation with the Slayer aside, so finally he sighed and nodded. "Fine," he snarled, "But Peaches buys the blood, and I'm not getting anywhere *near* mistletoe unless it's with you, Red."

"Agreed," Angel stated before processing all of what the boy had said. He forced himself not to growl as he pulled his eyes away from the wildly green depths of Willow's to glare hotly at his childe. "About the blood, boy. There will be *no* mistletoe in my home. Ever." Especially not if Spike was there with Willow. Angel had no doubt the little bastard would take advantage of it-- and her-- if he ever got the chance.

Willow chuckled softly, finally able to move again, now that he wasn't staring so intently at her. "Well, *good*, then. We'll stay for Christmas... Angel, are you sure you want to..."

The dark-haired vampire grinned and nodded, refusing to examine why he felt so much better now that she was there. "I'm sure, Will. It's been a long time since I've had a *Merry* Christmas. Might be nice, you know?" He finally released his grip on her shoulders and stepped back. "I guess we should see about finding rooms for you two."

It was only then, as she followed him up the stairs, Spike trailing right behind, that she realized. "Oh! Oh, damn. I don't have any clothes or anything!"

Spike laughed quietly. He'd been wondering when the little witch would realize that; he was actually surprised that it had taken her so long. "You've got a bunch of cash, though," he said, referring to the money she'd promised him. "Use it. You can pay me later." Even if she had to mail it to him, it was all right. He trusted her, after all-- more than he'd ever trusted anyone human, anyway.

"Oh, and Angel," Willow said, stopping on the first floor landing and staring up at him, "Happy Solstice." She smiled sweetly when he leaned down to kiss her cheek softly.

"Happy Solstice, witch-girl," he answered. "Now come on, and we'll get you settled in." He'd figure out later what it was that was making his demon feel so smug.
 

Part 3

She'd been shocked to find Cordelia in the chair by her bed when she woke up, but it had been a happy sort of surprise; so she'd sat up quickly, squealing as the other girl hugged her. "I thought you were in England!"

Cordelia snorted slightly, and pulled back. "I was. There's a whole story about a Spotted Dick. Tell you later, Will." She giggled at the curious yet slightly queasy look on her friend's face, and moved for the door. "Besides, Angel said you needed to go shopping, so... get dressed. I'll wait in the hall." She stepped out, closing the door behind her, and smiled hugely. The broody sack of guilt was actually going to have a Christmas, and somehow the mere fact of Willow's presence had made him forgive her for what she'd done to him the night before. It had seemed like a good idea at the time-- a bit of a joke, considering the fact that Angel was more than over Buffy-- but when she'd woken up to the ringing phone, the loud chirping made worse by the throbbing in her head, she'd actually groaned. Cordelia Chase and large amounts of liquor were a bad mix, she acknowledged silently. That was the moment her friend chose to emerge from her room, though, so she filed the thought away in her memory. "Ready?" she asked quickly, nodding when the girl told her yes. "Let's go, then. I've been wanting to have a hand in your clothes for years now... and that sounded really wrong, didn't it?" She blushed slightly, then laughed. "Oh, well, you know what I meant."

Willow smiled happily as her friend and former tormentor led her down the stairs and out into the sunny morning light. Whatever else, shopping with Cordelia ought to be an experience.
 
 

Angel smiled as he listened to the girls leaving, and finally burrowed his head into his pillow once again. Knowing Cordelia, they'd be gone for hours, and that would be plenty of time for him to sleep a bit more, then make a few calls to set the surprise he'd concocted in motion. He thought Willow would enjoy it, and she deserved a little pleasure, after the things life had thrown at her in the last year alone. Yes, he told himself, he was going to enjoy giving her a merry Merry Christmas. It was the least he could do; she was his friend, after all; wasn't she?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Buffy walked slowly through the streets, marveling yet again at the six inches of snow on the ground; it was only the second time she'd seen it in her life, after all, and while the first time had seemed like a glorious thing, it had been only a prelude to what she'd thought was the worst time of her life. Now she knew better.

The pain she felt then, seeing Angel so ready to stand there and blaze to dust in the light of an angry sun, and the other pain-- later-- when he'd left her and gone to LA were nothing to the sheer stabbing misery she'd known since returning. She'd wanted so badly to feel alive again, she'd done the one thing she never should have. She taken Spike in every way possible, hoping that the burning need he felt for her body might warm her, and it had. For a moment.

It had been a mistake, and she somehow thought he might know it, too, even if he *did* still hint broadly at wanting another go-round. Wasn't going to happen, though, because... as she'd finally come to understand, she couldn't look to anyone but herself for light and a reason to live. She couldn't do it for her sister or her friends, because that wouldn't work in the long run. No, she had to find a reason unconnected with anything outside herself; find something deep inside that made her want to continue, and... she almost thought she had.

It was the highly unlikely snow that had gotten her to thinking, and... she would be all right. A small smile-- the first real one she'd worn since coming back-- spread across her lips, and when the next passerby wished her a happy holiday, that smile grew larger. "Thanks," she called after him, "And a Merry Christmas to you!"

That smile stayed in place, even as she made her way back to the house, because... the snow was unexpected; it showed her that whatever might be thought of as impossible *could* happen, and... that had to mean that she'd be all right. She'd accepted the fact that Angel was no longer hers, accepted that he never should have been, and yet, she lived. She *lived*, even after everything that had happened.

Dying twice. Coming back. Losing herself in the disappointment of having to leave that other world. Well, no longer. She had a core of strength that was both frightening and startling to her, and... it was enough, because "I'm alive!" she shouted joyously into the crystal air. It was enough.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He'd been flipping channels for what seemed like hours now, but his only other option was spending time with the pouf, and frankly, he didn't think he'd ever be that bored. Still, sitting in this room alone was better than trying to avoid the anger and irritation of the psycho-Angelus, so Spike figured he couldn't really complain. As soon as the sun set, though, he was off to find some mayhem and madness to create.

He wished Willow hadn't run off so early; her company would have made the day drag less, but... 'Shopping,' the git had said when he'd asked after her, and that had been enough conversation with his shit of a Sire to last him for at least another year or so. "Christmas with the bloody ponce," he grumbled. "Sodding prat'll probably want to exchange presents, and who the fuck knows *what* else." He sighed and dug deep into his pants pocket, pulling out what little cash he had. After all, he wasn't going to look like a total wanker by having nothing to give the girl, especially seeing as he was sure the great fairy would be pulling out all the stops.

He growled at the pitiful total, but... maybe he could steal something for her. It was worth a shot, anyway.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Willow and Cordelia were both laughing loudly as they walked into the Hyperion almost five hours after they'd left. It had been a productive day, although the dark-haired girl had just been getting started when the redhead called a halt to things. Still, Cordy figured it was worthwhile, just to see her friend so happy. She dropped her bags on the floor and flung herself onto the big couch in the lobby. "Go put on the blue outfit," she demanded. "The one we got you at Barney's."

Willow would have argued, but she'd never been one for wearing the same clothes day in and day out-- not without washing them at least. "Okay, Cord," she giggled, starting for the stairs, "But I may be a while; I need a shower, too." She darted up the stairs, unaware of the dark eyes following her from the office doorway.
 

Angel watched her go, a slight smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "Good day?" he asked his Seer, stepping into the main room.

A puzzled frown crossed her brow as she wondered why Angel was staring so fixedly at the stairs, but it only took a moment for her to figure it out. "Yeah," she said, trying to keep the surprise from her voice, "We got a lot accomplished. You might want to think about getting her a Christmas present, though. Just so you don't feel like a jerk later." She smiled widely then as she realized exactly what Willow's great care in selecting Angel's gift meant. She'd thought her friend was just being overly picky.

The vampire nodded, the girl's words bearing out his suspicions. "I actually already thought of that, Cordy, but thanks."

She gazed at him for a moment longer, and shook her head when he turned away. Why hadn't she seen it earlier, she wondered. Then again, she hadn't seen Angel and Willow in the same zip code for years; she supposed it was understandable. The fact that neither the vampire nor the witch seemed to be aware of it was what had her confused. How could they not know? It was a damned good question, but then again why would they? They'd never spent time together without Buffy looming between them, after all. But they would, she vowed. Even if she had to knock Spike over the head and tie him up at her place, she was going to give her two friends the opportunity to discover what she already knew. They liked each other, and not just in a friendly way, although that was definitely a part of it. Of course, there was still his curse to contend with, but... She couldn't do everything at once, could she?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He could hear the unfamiliar heartbeat, even from two floors up, and he couldn't help wondering whose it was. From what he'd thought, everyone human with reason to be there was out of town, and he somehow doubted that it would be a client this close to the biggest mortal celebration ever.

The alarm clock next to his bed went off, sounding the time sunset was supposed to be, and he rose and stretched. He slid his feet into his boots, grabbed his coat, and started for the lobby. If that unknown human was still there when he reached it, he'd find out just who was intruding, wouldn't he?

He was halfway down the main staircase when he caught sight of the brunette girl, and his steps faltered for just a moment before he took himself in hand and continued down. "Cordelia," he greeted, giving her an appraising once-over when she stood, "Still working out, I see..."

She actually blushed at the words, her mind flashing for a moment on the last time she'd seen him. 'You look smashing,' he'd said, and even though she'd known him for evil, and a demon, the words had made her feel warm. These new words made her feel even more so. "A little," she finally said. "Between that and the frequent slayage-sessions, I guess I'm keeping fit."

Spike nodded appreciatively before looking away and cursing himself for being such a ponce. "Got tired of Wussy, then, did you?"

Cordelia couldn't quite hold in a nervous laugh. "Not exactly. I just... came back, okay?" She glanced him up and down, silently admitting that he looked as good as he always did. Still, she wasn't quite willing to mention the Spotted Dick incident. She had a fairly good idea that anything he found to say about that would only make her more uncomfortable. "So where are you off to?" she finally asked.

The vampire shrugged, one lock of pale blond hair falling onto his forehead. "Nowhere particular; you?" He wasn't sure of whether he even cared. He just wanted to hear another voice, other than those on the sodding tele.

"Gotta finish my Christmas shopping," she told him, picking her bags up. "Angel, I'm leaving," she called out, and "Tell Will I'll call her later, okay?" And with that, she turned away from the blond and started out of the hotel.

Spike watched her go before suddenly realizing that she might be able to help him. "Wait, pet," he called after her, dashing swiftly to her side. "Look, I need a favour. Want to get Red something, and... D'you know where there's a magic shop? A not-too-expensive, has-lots-of-cool-stuff-for-a-powerful-witch, and lets-vampires-in-the-door kind of magic shop?"

Cordelia grinned, glad that she wouldn't have to give Spike a much more careful version of the warning she'd given Angel earlier. "Yeah," she told him, "Okay, what you do is... you go down here to the light and make a left. Then you go right on the third street after the giant doughnut. You'll see this palm tree shaped like Marilyn Monroe, and you go left again..."

Spike's expression became more and more confused as the girl continued. "I don't think I got more than half of that, luv," he admitted when she finished. He only shrugged when she rolled her eyes, then smiled brilliantly when she said she'd show him. "Right, then," he said, taking some of her bags. It was only fair, after all, and... he could be a somewhat decent bloke when he wanted to.
 

Part 4

Angel heard her small feet come clattering down the stairs, and he grinned while placing a bookmark in the dusty volume he'd been passing time with. He moved swiftly from his chair and out into the small area behind the front desk. "Hey, Will-ohhh..."

"Angel, hi," she said distractedly, looking about for Cordelia. "Have you seen Cordy?" It was the continuing silence that drew her eyes back to him, and she frowned at the look on his face. "Angel, are you okay? 'Cause you look kinda like someone hit you in the head with a stick..."

He heard her words; of course he heard her words, but he couldn't seem to form any of his own. He *felt* like he'd been hit in the head with something, but it would have to have been something considerably larger than a stick. God, she was... she was wearing some sort of a blue, silky outfit, all flowing skirt and tight, clingy top, and that particular shade of sapphire blue had never looked so good. He thought it just might be his new favourite colour. Her hair was slightly damp, falling in wavy tendrils around her face, and... God, but the little bit of make-up she wore suited her perfectly. He didn't know why he'd never realized it before, but... "Wow," he finally said, forcing himself to breathe enough for the words, "Willow, you look... Are you going out or something?" He tried to ignore the anger the thought created within him.

Willow sighed, glancing once more around the lobby. "I guess not," she told him. "I mean, Cordy and I were thinking about getting some dinner and maybe going to a club or something, but I guess she changed her mind." She was actually disappointed, too; she'd been looking forward to seeing some of the LA nightlife.

Oh, well, that was okay, he decided. Still, the little witch looked so dejected... "Oh," he said, suddenly remembering, "She said she'd call you later, and... I *think* I heard her say something about... more Christmas shopping?"

Willow laughed, her eyes sparkling merrily. "Well that kills that idea! There's no way she'll be through before the stores finally close."

"And even then, they'll probably have to get security to drag her out kicking and screaming," Angel added, thrilled when the girl laughed at his attempted humour.

"I wouldn't doubt it for a minute," the redhead agreed.

The vampire swallowed hard a few times, his mind racing as he wondered if he should even bother, but "*I* could take you to dinner, Will," he finally said, glancing tentatively at her from beneath lowered lids. "I don't know about the club thing, but dinner I could do..."

Willow smiled softly at him and shook her head. "Angel," she said, chuckling, "You don't even eat! But I appreciate the offer, you know?"

"Just because I don't *have* to eat doesn't mean I *can't*, Willow, and... You look so good, it would be a shame to waste it by staying in." He batted his eyes at her, grinning when she chuckled. "C'mon, Will, it'll be fun. Besides, it would be good for me to be seen with a beautiful girl on my arm." And wasn't *that* the truth! Maybe then, people would stop calling him eunuch-- to his face, anyway. "Please?"

It was the overly flirtatious eye-batting that truly got to her, because it was just so... not Angel-like. And she really *did* want to go out, so after a minute or two, she nodded. "All right," she told him seriously, laughing again when he ran into the office and grabbed his coat. "But Angel," she insisted as they walked out to his car, "You don't have to call me beautiful, you know. It's not like this is a date or anything." She was so busy wondering why that one small sentence made her feel so disappointed that she didn't notice the expression on his face, which exactly matched her own emotions.

That she'd said that at all truly hurt him. Not that he *wanted* it to be a date, but... he got the feeling that the girl hadn't ever been truly wined and dined, and the one thing he was certain of was that she deserved to be. If that task fell to him, then he'd enjoy it as much as he possibly could. Maybe it wasn't a *real* date, but that didn't mean he couldn't *act* like it was. In the interests of making sure his friend had a good time, of course.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Willow giggled, even as Angel made his way to the bar again. Dinner had been nice, especially considering the fact that they hadn't had a reservation. She figured it was just a lucky thing that the not-so-broody vampire knew the owner. She wasn't quite clear on how he did, exactly, but... she was fairly certain she'd overheard the phrase 'brain eating' when he'd pulled the other man aside, and she figured that meant it was really none of her business. Yes, dinner had been very nice, and the fact that Angel had offered to bring her to this little club made the evening even better. She'd never seen such a wide assortment of demons sitting peacefully in a small place. Her small smile grew larger as the proprietor of Caritas stopped by her table and sat for a few minutes in Angel's vacant chair.

"Having a good time, sweetness?" Lorne asked silkily, well aware of the fact that the girl was. "Ready to get up and sing?" His scaled brow furrowed when she shuddered, and he glanced quickly at the bar, making sure the vampire was still engaged in waiting for his drinks. "I sense a story here, precious. Come on; tell Uncle Lorne all about it."

The girl gazed consideringly at the green and red demon for a moment before sending out one small sensing tendril and relaxing as it showed her she could trust him. "Sunnydale," she said shortly. "Singing and dancing demon, spontaneous human combustion... it wasn't pretty."

Ah, he thought, well that made sense, then. Still, "If you let that keep you from having fun, then the demon won, right?" It wasn't so much that he was worried about the girl as the fact that... she made him curious. She'd wandered in on the arm of the Warrior, looking so very lovely and sweetly innocent, and yet she gave off an aura of barely contained power with a slight whiff of corruption about it. It was a puzzle, and one thing Lorne had always hated was not knowing the answers to each and every enigma that crossed his path. "Maybe you could do a duet with Broodsome, here," he tried as the vampire returned to the table.

Willow considered it, not noticing the quick almost desperate shaking of Angel's head. "Maybe," she finally allowed; "That might be all right."

Angel groaned softly, glaring daggers at his Pylean friend. He hadn't had any intention of singing, especially after the previous night, but... he knew he'd do it if it would make Willow happy. He set the drinks down on the table, still glowering at the green-skinned man. "I'd love to sing with you," he directed to the girl, voice tight and tense.

"And my work here is done," Lorne announced, standing up. He waved quickly at one of the waiters, telling the man to bring a song menu to the table. "See you later, guys," he smirked, just before walking away.

Angel sighed silently as he sat down. His hand wrapped swiftly around his glass and he drained his fresh drink in less than ten seconds before standing again. "I'm going to the bar," he announced, well aware of the fact that he sounded like an idiot. "Want another?"

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she wondered whether Angel had always been such a drinker, but she nodded anyway, determined to be fun for him. He didn't want her to think she was a stick-in-the-mud, after all. She sucked desperately at her straw as he walked away, and when the waiter returned with the requested menu, she began perusing it with interest. She knew for a fact that her singing voice was fairly horrible, but... Cordelia had told her about Angel's, so she figured she'd be in good company. Her eyes lit up as she found the perfect song, and she jotted the letter and number for it on the slip of paper the waiter had left behind, then sent it to the DJ with a busboy who was passing by. Her smile became a good bit more wicked and secretive when the vampire returned with the fresh cocktails.

And Willow looking like she had a secret was a scary thing, Angel realized as he resumed his seat. It was only when he heard the opening bars of the music and the spotlight was suddenly on their table that he realized just how frightening she could be. Nonetheless, he stood when she did, and by the time they'd climbed the stairs to the stage, he was more or less reconciled to singing 'I Never Talk To Strangers' with her. He'd had no idea she was a Tom Waits fan.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Spike honestly couldn't believe he was enjoying the cheerleader's company. It was nearly inconceivable to him, and yet it was a fact. The stunning little chit was actually more amusing than any human he'd ever met-- in the intentionally-so sense. Most mortals were bloody hilarious due to their inept stupidity, but this girl... Oh, Cordelia was a right smart one. He'd never have guessed it, he admitted. Hell, the girl almost reminded him of himself, which was a shock, seeing as it had taken him a good fifty years to develop his own personality. It was the truth, though, which kind of made him wonder... had he been dealing with just the surface appearances of the Scooby Gang, and not bothering to find out who they really were? If so, then maybe he had a good chance of getting over his infatuation with the bloody Slayer. If what he fancied himself in love with wasn't really who the girl was, then... maybe he could be free of her? He bloody well hoped so. Another wicked laugh burst from his lips at the somewhat indelicate comment Cordelia'd just made about Broody, and he flung his non-package-laden arm around the girl's shoulders without even noticing it. "Tell me more, luv," he ordered, chuckling darkly.

Her mouth kept moving, and words were coming out of it, but she truly had no idea of what she was saying. Every inch of her skin was tingling from the sensation of his lithely cool body against her side. Her mind raced, and she cursed herself for even *thinking* about him as a man, because he wasn't. He was a vampire. A *soul-less* vampire. And sure, he had a chip in his head and couldn't actually hurt her, but that didn't make him human, and she knew it. It didn't stop her from finding him funny and charming-- in an oddly Spike-ish way-- and it didn't stop her from wondering, either.

His laughter seemed to be unstoppable, because he could actually hardly walk any more. Finally, he had to halt his steps and lean against the side of a building. "His body was stolen by a bloody senior citizen?" he chortled, staring at the girl from amusement-slitted eyes, "No bloody way!"

And it was that that suddenly made her curious about something. She forced herself to focus, and stared fixedly at the bleached-blond vampire. "Did you say that as much when you were human? 'Bloody', I mean." She was entirely unprepared for the brand new spate of laughter following her question. Her lips tightened and she frowned slightly. "Fine then," she declared, "*Laugh* at me." She didn't know what she had been thinking. Attracted to Spike? As *if*! She snatched up her bags from where he'd dropped them on the sidewalk and stalked away.

It took him a minute to realize she'd left him, but when he did he darted swiftly after her. "Sorry, pet," he purred, pulling the bags from her angry grasp. "I wasn't laughing at you so much as I was laughing at me... at who I was." He started to explain, although he was entirely certain that he didn't know why he was so sure she'd understand. It was instinctive, though, and he'd been trusting his instincts for longer than he cared to remember.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dawn was thrilled when her sister got home acting more like... well, not more like the old Buffy, but more like a person. She actually seemed to be interested in what was going on, and not just in the 'if it's bad, I kill it' kind of way. Shoot, Buffy was even helping her trim the Christmas tree she'd forced the older girl into getting. There was a certain sadness in the fact that this would be their first Christmas without their mother, but as far as Dawn was concerned, that was even more reason to make sure they made it a good one. Their Mom would have wanted them to. "So angel or star on top?" she demanded as they laced the last of the popcorn and cranberry strings through the branches of the Douglas Fir. Their mother had always left it up to Buffy, after all, and Dawn saw no reason to change that particular tradition, although she was determined to indulge in some *real* eggnog this year. After all, if she was the key, then she was *more* than old enough to have a drink or two. "Buffy?" she said, a bit more loudly, "Do you want the angel or the star?"

"The angel is Willow's," the Slayer said distractedly. "Go with the star."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lorne chuckled quietly as the Witch and the Warrior stumbled up the stairs to the cab he'd called for them. They'd sang together, and it had only reinforced what he'd already known from hearing Angel the night before. A smug smile graced his lips, even as he turned back to the crowded club. It would all work out, and he knew it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He couldn't seem to stop touching her. His fingers had been grazing her warm pale skin for what seemed like hours. It wasn't until the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel that he finally managed to pull his hand from her arm. He reached into his pocket to pay the driver, then got out, reaching back to help the smallish redhead. "Y'kay, Willy?" he giggled, barely able to hold still.

Willow laughed loudly, almost falling over her own feet. "I'm *great*!" she exclaimed, the accompanying expansive gesture spinning her halfway around. She suddenly found herself gazing up into warm chocolate eyes, and she sighed in delight. "Your eyes are all sparkly," she announced, leaning closer.

Angel just couldn't help himself. He'd never been so drunk in his 'life', and he was standing in front of the girl who'd been in his mind constantly since the prior night, and she was so close! His hands closed softly on her shoulders and he bent down, pressing his cool soft lips to her hot, full ones. His fingers clenched, then moved around to her back as she leaned into him.

He was kissing her? Or was she kissing him? She wasn't quite sure it even mattered, because there was definitely some kissing going on. Her lips parted for him, even as her arms closed around his solid waist, and she sighed softly-- happily-- as his tongue slipped slowly into her mouth.

There was some reason he shouldn't be doing this, his booze-befuddled mind was telling him, but damned if he could remember what it was. And she was so warm, and supple, and perfectly Willow against him that he couldn't quite force himself to figure it out. He could feel her hands tight against his spine; feel the small length of her body pressed against him, and... he didn't want to stop. Not ever. It had been so long since he'd felt this warm, this wanted, this... needy. Fire raged through his blood, leaving swiftly flaming embers in its wake, and he held her closer, wishing he could melt completely into her tight, hot shape. "Inside," he finally managed to say demandingly, and when she nodded silently, he lifted her, carrying her into the lobby.

She had no idea of where he was taking her, but she honestly didn't care. She'd never felt anything like the things just kissing him had made her feel; she didn't want it to end. Her head swam as he held her to him and raced swiftly up the stairs. She didn't know the room he took them to, but the weapons hanging on the walls and the old leather-bound books she saw had her almost entirely sure that it was his. Her breath left in a gasp as he tripped and they fell hard on the bed, his cool, tense body heavy between her legs. "Angel," she moaned as the room spun.

His head was swirling and dipping, making him queasy, but she was beneath him, her hands moving roughly up and down his back, and he'd be damned if he'd let his own lack of equilibrium spoil things. He lifted his head and chose to focus on the Willow in the middle-- out of the three, she seemed the most real. His mouth dropped down again, and he pressed his lips hard against hers. "Should've been *you*, Will," he mumbled blearily. "Not the Slayer, *you*." He frowned slightly when he realized she wasn't responding, only to have his expression clear as he passed out.
 

Part 5

Her entire body was throbbing when she woke, and she didn't quite know why. Somehow, she thought it might have something to do with the long, cool body she found herself pressed up against. She had a vague recollection of dancing with a vampire who'd looked an awful lot like Angel, but she was entirely sure that that had only been another dream. Angel didn't dance, for one thing, and... even if he did, he would never have danced with *her*, and especially not like *that*. He'd been a wild, gyrating machine in her head... at least until she'd somehow convinced Lorne to play a minuet. After that, he'd been sly, and sensual, and so very *not* Angel! It was beyond bizarre. Even worse, she really had no idea of where she was. She blinked blearily, her eyes traveling slowly around what she could see of the room, and finally focused again on the man beside her. The dark, broody man who was obviously still asleep. Funny, she thought, he didn't look nearly as guilt-ridden as he did awake.

It was the pressure in her bladder that finally made her decide to move, and she slid carefully from beneath the thick arm over her stomach. She felt like she should be embarrassed or something, but she just wasn't. After all, they'd both made it back, and while she'd never expected to wake up beside Angel, they were still fully clothed if a bit rumpled, so... no harm, no foul. Of course, that didn't mean she wanted to be there when *he* woke up. She had a feeling he'd just go getting all broody again.

Willow carefully made her way from the room and down the hall to the stairs. Her own room was only one flight up, so she climbed the stairs quickly, the urge to pee making her feet move faster and faster.

Her relief was intense, but only drew her attention to the old alcohol taste in her mouth, and she set about brushing her teeth, then showering, all the while telling herself that it *hadn't* felt felt nice to wake up with someone again, and that it *really* hadn't felt good for that someone to be Angel.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Spike growled softly as the little chit's alarm clock started buzzing away like a wildly annoying horsefly. "Shut that bloody thing off!" he shouted from his spot on the couch. He hadn't planned on staying at the cheerleader's surprisingly nice apartment, but their talk had gone on late into the night, and by the time the girl had headed off to bed, it was too near dawn. Still, her couch had been fairly comfortable. He wasn't entirely sure of why she'd even set the bloody alarm, anyway. It was the day before Christmas, after all; wasn't she on holiday?

Cordelia groaned and slapped hard at the clock, heaving a sigh of relief when the loudness stopped. Five hours, she'd gotten, but she was a little bit worried about what Spike might get up to if she slept longer. "Spike!" she reminded herself, jumping from the bed and quickly pulling jeans and a t-shirt over her naked body. She dashed from the room, waving quickly to her blond 'guest' as she grabbed the phone in the kitchen. "It's Cordelia," she said a bit breathlessly as the other end was picked up. "I'm back in town; could you send me the usual? No, wait." She glanced again at the vampire on the couch and smiled slightly. "Better make it the good stuff. Yeah, as soon as possible, okay? Put it on my tab." She hung up at the quickly muttered agreement and moved more calmly into her living room. "Morning, Spike," she finally greeted. "Breakfast should be here soon. Human, right?"

He was fairly certain that his confusion was showing on his face, although he doubted the baffled "Huh?" was helping to hide it. His eyes remained locked on the shapely brunette as she sat down on the other end of the couch.

"Blood, Spike," Cordelia said, as though she were speaking to a particularly dim-witted child. "I called for some blood. You prefer human to animal, right? I hope so, 'cause that's what I ordered."

"Human..." he echoed, his mind spinning at the very notion that this girl had actually thought of him. "Haven't had human in... Yeah, pet. Human's bloody great!" Fuck, the last time he'd had human blood had been... when Dru'd killed that girl for him at the Bronze, and that was bloody ages ago! He could feel his mouth watering at the very thought of tasting it again. Still, he couldn't help but wonder "How is it you know where to get blood, luv? And how'd you get 'em to let you run a tab?"

Cordelia laughed and settled back against the couch. "Angel stayed here for a while after the first building blew up, so..." she shrugged, "I had to make some contacts. I still use them so I have blood when he comes to visit."

And he supposed that made sense, although the idea of his great prat of a Sire staying with the luscious little chit just made him twitch. Bloody hell, the pouf'd probably seen the girl in her nightgown.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He felt cold. Cold and hurting. Of course, the pain was most likely due to the staggering amounts of booze he'd consumed. Not that he really remembered doing so, but... it was the only explanation. He groaned deeply, pressing one hand to his eyes.

He remembered singing with Willow, then dancing with her... Dancing. He shuddered, hoping he hadn't made *too* much of a fool of himself. Still, Willow hadn't laughed at him, so he supposed it was all right. He had a vague recollection of a cab ride, and...

"Oh. Shit." he whispered, sitting bolt upright on his bed, "I kissed her. Worse, I enjoyed it." And he had. He'd loved every second of it. The memory of the sensations flooded through him and he groaned again. He'd taken advantage of the girl. It was enough to remind him of his human days. He'd gotten her drunk, and taken advantage, and... No, he told himself, he'd only kissed her, right?

But he could smell her there on his sheets, make out the scent of her clinging to his skin, and... he'd brought her to his room? Yet he was dressed, and apparently still had his soul, so "Nothing happened," he said aloud with a great sense of relief. He chose to deliberately ignore the disappointment he also felt as the rest of the memories swam to the surface of his mind. Relief, he told himself; only relief.

He wondered for a moment how he'd ever face the girl again, but "It was only a kiss. Or two. Maybe three." A small sigh slipped from him as the memories clarified further, and he forced himself to get off the bed. He needed a shower and some breakfast. Then he'd worry about what to say to her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He was still thinking about it while he waited to see if the girl was even going to show her face. Hell, for all he knew, she was embarrassed. He paced the lobby, slowly growing more agitated, only to jump at the sharp rap at the lobby doors. He stared at the man outside for a moment before suddenly remembering. "Oh, right!" he mumbled to himself, "The surprise!"

Angel unlocked the door, smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I forgot you were coming today."

Richard sighed softly but shook his head. "It's all right, Angel," he said impatiently, "But I'm in a bit of a hurry. Maybe you can just tell me where to put everything?"
 

The vampire shook the other man's hand in thanks, and "We're even now," he announced.

"Good," Richard said; "Then I'll look forward to never seeing you again. Not that I dislike you, but..."

"I make you uncomfortable," Angel finished. "It's fine. And no, you won't see me again unless it's a special occasion."

The demon stared at him for a moment before understanding. "Oh. Oh, well, of course. That's fine. Birthdays, Anniversaries. Absolutely..." He breathed a large sigh of relief when he was out on the pavement, the doors shut behind him. With any luck, the vampire wouldn't have any 'special occassions' for a very long time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She felt entirely like herself as she walked down the main staircase to the lobby, and a wide smile crossed her lips at the sight of the tall vampire. "Morning, Angel," she caroled as she finished her descent. "Or should I say afternoon?" She laughed lightly and moved closer to her friend, giving him a gentle hug. "Thanks for taking me out last night," she added, "I had fun, although... I don't think I'm gonna be drinking again any time soon!" She laughed again and released him. "Gods, I don't even remember leaving the club! I'm so glad I was with you, though; at least I know you didn't let me do anything stupid!" She turned away and flung herself onto the couch, smiling up at him. "So what's on the agenda for today? We should do something, you know?" A small frown creased her brow as she glanced out through the glass doors. "But not something that involves you bursting into flames. I know! We can watch the Parades on TV!"

He couldn't believe it. The most amazing kisses of his entire existence, and she didn't remember! She had no recollection of their lips pressed together, or the way their tongues had writhed. She didn't know that they'd been well on their way to true danger until he'd passed out. She didn't recall the way she'd touched him, or his arms tight around her as he carried her to his room. It was a shattering blow to his ego. Yet she was sitting there, waiting for him to say something in response to whatever she'd just asked him, and "What?" he said, trying to sound calm and placid while everything inside him was raging at the injustice. "I'm sorry, Will. What?"

Willow rolled her eyes and giggled. "I said we should watch the Parades."

Angel nodded slowly, trying to figure out why he was so disturbed. It was a *good* thing that she didn't remember... wasn't it? It meant she wouldn't treat him any differently just because he'd had too much to drink and had thrown himself at her. The fact that she'd happily caught him was irrelevant. The fact that she'd opened her soft, warm lips to him and pressed herself tightly against him was just... unimportant. Right? He followed her smallish form up the stairs, trying to convince himself that that was, indeed, the case. He didn't choose to notice that his eyes were locked tightly on her swaying bottom.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He'd been thrilled to discover that Cordelia's building actually had sewer access; mostly because that meant he could actually do something other than sit on her couch all day. His little search the previous night had turned up nothing in the way of a good present for the witch, or at least nothing he could afford. Gone were the days of taking whatever he liked; hell, he hadn't even been able to scare the shopkeep. The bloody bastard had just looked at him when he'd vamped, then laughed at him! The memory alone had him growling, despite the fact that he was in a Mall surrounded by humans who were obviously just as flummoxed by the season as he was. He glared hotly around him, his expression finally lightening as he caught sight of what appeared to be a candle shop. "And candles might work for a witch," he murmured.

She honestly hoped it hadn't been a mistake to set Spike loose on the daytime world, but he'd been driving her insane with his twitching. The constant channel-surfing hadn't helped, either. Fortunately, this Mall wasn't too far from her place, and as she knew from experience, the skylights were never particularly clean, so she figured there'd be no problem in that way. Sadly, though, she wasn't quite sure she trusted the blond not to make a scene. Still, she had some shopping of her own to do, and she didn't want to drag him around with her, after all, so... they'd separated only moments after arriving, and now-- three hours later-- it was time to find him again. Her eyes darted about the area where they were supposed to meet, and she sighed impatiently.

Spike was smirking as he crept up behind the girl. He held the three bags he'd acquired behind him in an effort to keep the plastic from rasping and giving him away. It was obviously a success, too, if the way she jumped and shrieked at the sensation of his cool hand on her back was any indication. "Miss me, pet?" he asked, amusement pouring from him in almost visible waves.

"You... you jerk!" Cordelia cried, only to find herself unable to stay mad at him. "Damned vampires and their sexy little pouts," she mumbled to herself. "Miss you? Yeah, Spike. Like the plague, or a big dose of flu. Sure I missed you."

So the little chit thought he was sexy, did she? Well, he supposed he couldn't really blame her. He made a mental note to pout more often even as he laughed at the truly amazing number of packages she'd amassed. "Shopping is like an olympic event with you, isn't it, luv? And you're obviously going for the Gold," he teased. "Should be fun carrying all that through the sewers."

Her eyes rolled exaggeratedly and she snorted. "Like I'm gonna go back into the stinky tunnels again? Oh, no. Not gonna happen. I'm taking a cab home." She tried to ignore his next pout, but gave up after less than a minute. "Oh, fine," she sighed, turning away, "You can come with. The sun'll be down in a little while anyway, and... I still need to get something for Angel. Come on."

Well, at least he'd get to see what the girl thought was appropriate for the swishy ponce.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They'd ended up back in his room watching the parades on the television in his living room, and he hadn't been able to keep himself from resting his arm first along the back of the couch behind her, then later around her shoulders. Every time he turned to say even a word to her he caught a deep whiff of her hair, the vanilla sugar scent filling his head with wicked thoughts. He found himself dwelling on the kisses they'd shared and wondering how she'd react if he tried it again while they were both sober. He didn't *want* to think about it, but he couldn't seem to stop. His eyes flew back to the TV when she chuckled, and he laughed himself at the sight of the big puffy angel balloon trundling down the street.

She'd felt his eyes on her repeatedly. It was like a soft, subtle weight on her skin, and the problem was she liked it. She liked knowing he was looking; liked the fact that he couldn't seem to stop, and she didn't understand it. She was gay, wasn't she? Well, maybe. Maybe not, too. After all, she'd had a boyfriend, hadn't she? And she'd enjoyed the sex with him just as much as she had with Tara; maybe more, if she was going to be honest with herself. But this wasn't Oz she was sitting with. It wasn't her ex who was beside her with his arm around her shoulders. It definitely wasn't either Oz or Tara who was making her... feel all fidgety and wonder whether inching closer was possible. No, it was Angel-- Buffy's Angel, although they hadn't been together for quite a while. Finally, she figured what the hell and leaned her head against him, her cheek resting lightly on the massive edge of his chest. A small smile pasted itself to her lips when she heard him sigh softly. It seemed like a happy sound.

What in the hell was he doing? It was a damned good question, considering the way she was making him feel. His arm tightened a bit around her warm form, and he dropped his chin to rest gently on top of her head. This felt right for some reason. He sighed once more, purely satisfied just to be holding her this way. Maybe he *would* kiss her again, he decided; just to see what happened.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Didn't know you were such a Christian, luv," Spike admitted as he helped the driver strap the tree to the roof of the cab. It truly was amazing. Her apartment hadn't been all tricked out in the trappings of the holiday, but... The tree, the ornaments she'd gotten at the Mall, the truly amazing number of gifts she'd bought... it all added up to Cordelia being a major Christmas junkie.

The brunette laughed and stood back as the vampire finished lashing the evergreen down. "I'm not really. I mean, how can I buy into that 'one God' thing when I know about the Powers That Be? It's still a pretty cool holiday, though." She thought about it for a minute before nodding. "I think it's all the sparkle and glitter, and gifts and stuff. I mean, I don't want to sound shallow or anything, but... Giving and getting is never a bad thing, right? As long as it's something good, I mean. Not... demon goo, or anything."

Bloody hell, the little human just got more and more likable, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. He already liked her more than he wanted to. "I've got some demon goo for you, luv," he smirked, his voice insinuating one thing and one thing only.

Cordelia stared at the vampire for a moment, shocked silent, until she saw the teasing glint in his eye. She reached out and slapped him hard on the shoulder, laughing again. "And ewwww, Spike! God!" she cried before getting back into the cab. "Hyperion Hotel," she instructed the driver once the blond had gotten in and shut the door. She was going to give Angel a merry Christmas, even if it killed her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He wasn't quite sure of when he'd nodded off, but there was just something so perfect about waking up with his arms full of warm little witch. He'd apparently pulled her into his lap at some point, but he'd be damned if he didn't want to keep her there. He repositioned the sleeping girl slightly, groaning when his aroused hardness pressed more deeply against her. Hell, he was in trouble now. He could feel her warm breath gusting lightly against his cotton-covered chest, feel her fingers digging a bit deeper into his shoulder, and... "I'm such a bastard for enjoying this," he whispered.

She'd thought he was still asleep, but he obviously wasn't. A strong rush of guilt flashed through her at the knowledge that she was taking advantage of him, but she couldn't help it. Not any more than she'd been able to help crawling into his lap when he'd first dozed off. She honestly didn't know what was happening to her, and she wasn't sure she even cared; especially with the thickness she could feel throbbing beneath the edge of her hip. Then she heard his whispered words. He liked having her in his lap; liked the way he was holding her. She kept her eyes closed and shifted slightly against him, almost laughing when he moaned quietly. Oh, yeah, he liked it, all right.

Angel's head fell back, resting on the cushioned edge of the couch, and he counted slowly to ten while trying to will his erection away. All he needed was for Willow to wake up and feel him hard against her. He was sure she'd be just... thrilled... that he was having thoughts about her. Almost as thrilled as she'd been back in high school when that demon from the internet tried to make her his. He closed his eyes and counted again, losing track when she moved on him once more. "Oh, God..." he groaned. This was so very wrong, and he knew it, but he finally gave up on the counting idea and opened his eyes. The warm girl in his lap moved against him again and he looked at her, finding himself caught in her green gaze. "Uh... Willow!" he nearly stammered, ashamed of his body's reaction to her, "I... I can explain..."

She really couldn't keep herself from laughing this time, so she just let it out. Finally she stopped, though, and grinned into his chocolate eyes. "What are you gonna explain, Angel?" she said teasingly, "That you're a man-- male, I mean-- and I'm not?" She laughed again at the stunned shock on his face and shook her head. "It's okay, Angel," she added, forcing herself to pull away from him, "It happens. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

He truly didn't want to let her go. He wanted to hold her there upon him for the rest of eternity, and that worried him. She was Willow, after all, and he was still cursed. So he made his arms release her and sat forward, his elbows on his knees. "I'm still sorry, though," he told her, his new position hiding his tented slacks from her view. "It can't have been fun to wake up to that sort of a surprise."

"Oh, I wasn't sleepi..." she began before she remembered that she'd been pretending. "I mean, I wasn't aware of it while I was sleeping, and... like I said, it's perfectly normal. I don't get why you'd be that way with *me*, but whatever. It happened, and now can we just forget about it?"

He hadn't missed her slip of the tongue, but he forced his expression to remain grave and sorrow-laden even while he nodded. So the little witch had been awake the whole time? Maybe that explained how she'd ended up in his lap, then. And if that was so... Forget about it? Hell, that was the last thing he wanted to do. Still, it was the rest of what she'd said that had him frowning suddenly. "What do you mean, Will?" he asked softly, one hand reaching out to take hers. "Why *wouldn't* I get like that with you? You're smart, and funny, and God knows you're beautiful. I'd think *everyone* would be that way with you..."

Willow snorted softly and pulled her hand from his. "And now you're just trying to make me feel better. It's okay, Angel. I know what I am." She shook her head swiftly, only to find the motion arrested by his strong, cool fingers gripping her chin. "Angel?"

He shook his own head slowly, forcing the girl to meet his eyes. "No you don't, sweetness," he murmured, "You have no *idea* of what you are-- do you?" His eyes locked wantonly on her lips even as he leaned closer. "Shhh..." he hissed gently, when she would have spoken, and as he finished closing the small distance between their mouths, his eyes closed gently only to fly wide and golden with displeasure at the shouts coming from the lobby.
 

"Peaches!" Spike shouted, "Get your sorry ass down here!" He grinned wickedly at the brunette girl who was putting the finishing touches on the tree. They'd set it up against the wall by the front desk, and he'd found himself truly impressed by the girl's no-nonsense approach to everything. Hell, the stunning little chit had managed to get the tree trimmed, the lights strung, and the presents set up beneath that same tree in less than an hour. Fortunately, the great ponce hadn't come downstairs yet, but Spike was getting impatient. There had to be a bar somewhere nearby, and he figured it was about time he found it. "Come on, you great pouf," he shouted more loudly, "Come take a look at what your Seer's gone and done!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes, heartily amused by Spike's take on the holiday. Peace on Earth, Good Will Towards Men? Sure. More like 'Chaos is Good, and I won't stake the prat, but only 'cause it'd upset you, luv'. Which was actually pretty much exactly what he'd said in the cab, now that she thought about it. She plugged the last string of lights into the outlet and turned, glancing up the stairs. "Hi, Angel. Willow. Merry Christmas!" She figured Angel looked mad because of the names Spike had just called him, but she had no idea of why Willow was blushing and looking so uncomfortable. Oh, wait, she thought. Jewish. Willow probably didn't quite get the whole Christmas thing. She dashed forward, giving them each a quick hug. "Oh!" she cried, looking back at the tree, "I forgot!" And this was just the thing to draw her redheaded friend into enjoying the holiday, she decided. "Come here, Will," she ordered, bending to tear the cellophane from the last of her purchases.

Spike snatched the object from her hands and pulled it from its box. "I'll take care of this, pet," he said smoothly, only to be shocked silent when the brunette grabbed it back.

"No!" Cordy said, glaring at the blond. "The angel's for Willow! Come on, Will," she added, passing the tree-topper to the blushing girl, "Put the angel on top, okay?"

Just his Seer's words had him smiling, and he stepped forward to stand beside the bright red redhead. "Yes, Willow," he purred softly, looking at her from the corner of his eye, "The Angel's yours to put on top." He knew he was being a bit wicked with the words, but he couldn't help it. His childe had stopped him from kissing the witch, but that didn't mean he was going to give up. He just had to keep her a little off-balance until he had another opportunity.

Spike watched the goings-on with interest. He could actually see his Sire and Willow as a possibility, but... he really hoped Angel would keep that clause of his in mind, or at least give him fair warning. The last place he wanted to be if psycho-Sire came back was anywhere in the same bloody country. Still, the girl was only in town for another day or so, so he figured it would be all right. It wasn't like Willow was a slut or anything. "Here, pet," he said, pulling the ladder over beside the tree, "Let's cap this thing off, then."

Cordelia grinned widely as her friend did just that, a small chuckle leaving her lips as Angel approached to give the girl a hand getting down the ladder. "Okay," she finally said, "I'm out of here. See you guys tomorrow?" Her smile grew broader as both witch and vampire walked with her to the lobby doors. "Look, guys," she said, just before walking out. She pointed to a spot directly above their heads, and laughed at the expressions they suddenly wore. "It's mistletoe. You know what *that* means." She chuckled again and walked out into the night.

The way the ponce and Red were staring at each other was bloody funny, but that didn't mean he wanted to watch them all night. The hotel was boring enough already, especially now that the May Queen was gone. He snatched his coat up from the couch and darted around the two statue-like people before racing out, himself. "Cordelia!" he shouted, trotting after the girl's retreating back, "Direct me to a bar, luv?"

Cordy stared at him consideringly for a moment before finally nodding. Of course... "If you couldn't find the magic shop, you'll *definitely* get lost trying to find Caritas," she announced. "I'll just show you, okay?"

Spike smirked happily and flung an arm around her shoulders as they wandered off into the night.
 

Part 6

He would have liked to stake Spike, but he was somehow sure that the mistletoe hadn't been his idea. Still, staking wasn't a bad thought, just on general principles. None of that, however, was getting him any closer to kissing the smallish redhead beside him. His eyes traveled from her to the flowering bundle of greenery above them, then back to her. "Well," he finally said, trying for a lightly teasing tone and failing miserably, "It *is* traditional..."

Willow swallowed hard, every inch of her body trembling. Angel was her friend, and... she wanted him. She wanted him to kiss her, and touch her, and hold her tightly. Hell, she wanted to touch him, too. She wanted to trail her fingers over his pale, flawless skin, and learn just which parts of him were the most sensitive. She wanted to discover what sorts of sounds she could pull from his tense shape, and just how much control he had over himself. She definitely wasn't having just 'friendly' feelings for him. She also wasn't going to be kissed by him because of some 'tradition', though. She shook her head, quickly backing away. "No," she murmured, staring at the floor.

No? His entire body was singing for her, and she told him no? He was shattered for a moment, but then his demon spoke up inside him, reminding him of the way the girl had felt on his lap, in his arms... beneath him on his bed the night before. The look in her eyes before Spike had interrupted them just a little while earlier. The fact that she hadn't been sleeping. "Yes," he insisted, his own steps following hers. He closed the distance between them swiftly and reached out, grabbing her by the shoulders. His eyes bored into hers, all the wicked heat he was feeling clear in his face. "Yes." he said again.

She couldn't see anything but him in that moment, and she didn't even notice it when she licked her lips. "Why?" she asked breathlessly, even as he leaned down to her. She moaned deeply as his mouth covered her own, and was lost in a world of pure, swirling sensation as his tongue slipped deep into her mouth, dancing with hers.

His hands slid down her back as he pulled her flush to his body, and he groaned softly into her open lips. He traced her teeth slowly, sensually, and the roof of her mouth, and when he felt her slender, surprisingly strong arms close about his waist, he couldn't help letting her feel exactly how much she enticed him purely by being Willow. He had no thoughts of tomorrow, or any time so far removed from that one moment, and... Kissing her now was so much better than it had been the night before. He could feel every small tremor racing through her; hear her heart pounding and raging in her chest. He could feel her skin growing hotter, her lips swelling softly from his careful plundering, and... "Oh, God!" he moaned, finally letting her breathe for a moment. His hips rocked slightly and he gasped along with her as his thick, ready maleness impressed deeply upon her stomach. "That's why, Will," he groaned, finally answering her question. "I don't know when it happened, or how, but... God."

She would have searched for some reply, but his lips were on hers again and she couldn't think. All she could do was respond to him, and press herself more tightly to his cool, massive form. Her fingers dug gently into the long cords of muscle beside his spine, grasping at small puckered bits of his shirt as she let herself go, her tongue twining wickedly against his. He was...

Incredible. The girl was just incredible. He could feel his demon crowing happily in the back of his head, and it only drove him on, because Angelus was right. She was perfect for him-- them. She was everything he'd named her and more. Smart, funny, almost unbearably beautiful, now that he was actually looking-- and myriad other things he'd never thought any one creature could be. Sweet, but wicked. Needing, but strong. Innocent, but sensual. Light personified, but with a core of darkness that just floored him and Angelus both. The sense of her flooded him, blinding him to everything outside of that desperate and necessary meeting of lips. "My love," he found himself thinking, and he wasn't sure if it was his own thought or the demon's. It didn't matter, he realized, for at that particular moment they were one and the same. He growled softly as her fingers moved up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck, and when she arched slightly against him, he'd had enough. His arms tightened around her waist, and as soon as her feet cleared the floor, he started for the stairs.

She didn't notice him carrying her until they were inside his room. She didn't care that things were moving far too quickly. It didn't matter, she somehow knew. There was something primal-- elemental-- in what was happening, and... she couldn't have stopped it even if she'd wanted to. Her hands moved swiftly over his tense, shaking body, removing garments with wanton abandon, and when he returned the favour, she couldn't help but shudder with anticipation. Her arms wrapped around his naked waist and she pulled him hard against her, a small whimper flying into his mouth from hers when she finally felt the entire strong, cool length of him against her skin.

He wanted to speak to her of love, and shared moments, and the feeling that this was what he'd always been waiting for, but he couldn't find his voice. Every single part of him was too caught up in the sensations of touching her, being touched by her. Her skin was hot and smooth against his, her lips full and moist, and he could smell her in the air. He should have been worried that this depth of feeling had sprung into being over the course of just two days, but he wasn't. He couldn't be; not when this felt so right. His hands moved restlessly-- willfully-- over her trembling flesh, and when she tried to get even closer, he couldn't hold back any longer. God, he wanted to touch every part of her, taste every inch of her perfect shape, but he couldn't. Not yet. He literally couldn't wait that long. He walked her swiftly back towards his bed, lips still locked anxiously to hers, and when she started slightly at feeling the edge of the mattress behind her, he growled, low and deep in his chest. He lifted her up, then placed his knees on the bed, moving them just enough to have a firm foundation, and when he laid her down, it was only an instant before he slid desperately, deeply, and fully into her hot, slick core. His eyes opened wide, and he gasped loudly into her mouth before pulling back and stroking swiftly into her once more.

He was... Angel was... "Gods!" she cried, pulling her mouth from his to draw one shaky breath. He was so deep inside her, she felt like he lived there. Her legs shifted wildly before finally wrapping loosely around his smoothly moving hips. She stared into his gold-flecked eyes, her own just as wide and dazed, she was sure, and when he slid fully into her once more, her back arched hard against the mattress. "Angel!" she sobbed, every part of her feeling entirely filled by his tender invasion. Her fingers latched tightly onto his flexing arms, and her head fell back against the mattress as his force and speed increased wickedly. This was what she'd never known before-- this feeling of wholeness, completion, fulfillment. She'd never been so sure of anything or anyone in her life as she was of this man, this vampire, this... Warrior. Her eyes held his, and when the subtle signs of his true face beginning to appear showed, she could only moan and nod 'yes', and when he moved even faster and harder within her, she sobbed again in blessed relief. He wasn't hiding from her, and that meant more to her than she could ever say. "Angel..."

God, he was so close, so ready. Every instinct within him was screaming to just explode deep within her weeping core, to drink her down and make her his. And he wanted to. But he wanted to bring her with him, so he slowed his wicked thrusts, twisting against her each time he was buried deep inside her. He growled softly as her shuddering moans grew louder, more frantic, and when she finally clenched harder around him than he'd ever thought possible, his back arched hard, driving his thick shaft even deeper, and as he swelled within her, filling her tight, wet channel with streaming ribbons of thick, milky seed, his teeth lowered to her neck and he bit. He felt her fingers in his hair, holding him closer, felt her tightening around him again, and as the taste of her exploded across his waiting tongue he came again.

She held him close, her legs locked more tightly around his solid waist, and she cried out happily as he drank her. Her entire body was singing in reaction, every single part of her thrilled by his touch, his bite, his slowly softening shaft buried deep within her tender heat. Her fingers moved firmly on his scalp, threaded through his short brown locks, and when he began to pull away she moaned in disappointment. "No," she begged softly, "Don't stop..." She thought maybe she'd always wanted this-- wanted *him*-- but had just been too afraid to admit it.

He didn't *want* to stop; not ever. But he knew he had to. If he didn't, he might hurt her, and that would most likely kill him. He forced himself to be content with just licking at the wound he'd given her, a sense of pure satisfaction racing through him at the knowledge that she would bear his mark forever. Any other demon looking at her would know her for his; would even be able to *smell* him on her. He could feel her strong, powerful blood burning inside him, feel the sense of her locked deep in his unbeating heart, and there was only one thing that could possibly make things even more perfect. It would change her life forever, he knew, but... he didn't particularly care at the moment. Somehow she'd managed to become essential to him, and there wasn't any way he could take a chance on losing her now. He lifted his head slowly and met her glistening green eyes as he lifted one hand to slash deeply at his neck. His fingers tangled roughly in her hair as his blood began flowing, and he dragged her head desperately to the wound, pressing her lips hard against it. His eyes closed tightly when she struggled just a bit, only to relax as she took him in in great gasping gulps. Willow was... "Mine," he growled.

She knew what he'd done; of course she knew. She'd been a Scooby for years, after all, and she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea, in any case. Not when it was Angel. Her initial hesitance had been due to the fact that she hadn't been expecting it, but she'd gotten over that fairly quickly. The question had run through her mind of whether this was even a good idea, but she didn't care. There was no other way for this first night to end; no other possibility since he'd made up his mind. It should have bothered her that he hadn't asked, but... somehow, it didn't. The magic swirled through her blood, made even more powerful when it was joined by his essence, and she drove her tongue swiftly between the edges of his wound. Her hands grasped his shoulders tightly, holding him still as she pressed her lips roughly to that seeping slash he'd made for her, and when his blood stopped flowing freely, she let her head fall back against the bed. "And mine," she said intently, completing the very simple ritual.

Angel nodded slowly, surprised that she'd known enough to say that, but then again, he should have known. "Yours," he agreed, "Forever, Will."

Willow smiled, pulling his cool, sculpted body down onto her. Her lips pressed softly to his temple, one hand resting on the back of his neck. They'd still have to figure out how to explain what had happened to Spike-- well, not the what, but the why and how. She had a feeling it wasn't going to be pretty. "Mine," she murmured again, chuckling darkly when she felt him growing hard within her once more. "And yours," she admitted when he raised himself onto his elbows, "Always yours."

It was more than enough. More than he'd ever thought to have. He realized then that he had no idea of who he'd be when he woke, but she was hot beneath him, her silken walls tight around his turgid shaft, and... he couldn't think about that right then. Whoever he was later, right at the moment he was still Angel, and... "Love you," he sighed as he began to move again, an overwhelming sense of freedom flowing through him at actually saying the words that had been echoing in his skull for what seemed like "Forever."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 

"Come dance with me, pet," Spike demanded of the dark-haired girl. The bar was bloody amusing, what with the fact that not one in ten of the demons who sang there could manage to carry a tune even if they had a bag with handles; still, there was only so much a young vampire could take of sitting still, wasn't there? "C'mon, Cordy," he added, when he saw her thinking about it, "It'll be more fun than just..."

"Sitting around?" the girl supplied swiftly, "Okay." She stood and followed him onto the very small dance floor, giggling when he began flailing around like a bleached blond puppy on crack. If nothing else, she realized, this would provide her with lots of blackmail material. She danced almost slowly, her body twisting and turning with unconscious elegance, and when his wild gyrations slowed to match hers, she grinned. The boy-- vamp-- could move! They mirrored each other closely for three or four songs, and when a slow number started-- a ballad of some kind-- she didn't object when he stepped in close and put his arms around her waist. Her own arms rose to his shoulders, fingers eventually lacing at the back of his neck. "So," she finally said, "What do you think they're doing?"

Spike snorted slightly, rolling his eyes. "Knowing the great pouf? Probably still standing in the lobby, trying to decide whether it's worth it to defy tradition. Bloody pillock's a moron sometimes." He shook his head, blue eyes locking on the warm cocoa brown of the girl's. "Wanker should just kiss the girl and get it over with. It's what they both want, anyway."

She had to laugh at that, because Spike had seen it, too. "Well, no shit, Sherlock," she agreed. "Maybe we should lock them in a room together until they just lock lips and get it over with? 'Cause I swear you could cut the tension with a knife when they came downstairs tonight!"

They danced some more, mostly just the slow numbers, and both of them chose to ignore the fact that they were in complete agreement on most of what they said. It was bad enough that they were having all sorts of inappropriate *urges*, after all; no need to make it worse by admitting that they actually thought alike.
 

Part 7

Waking up the way he did, with visions of all the things that had happened the night before was... almost painful. He'd taken her repeatedly, and with no thought for whether it was what she truly wanted, and... God! He'd even forced her to drink him! That she hadn't pulled away then was a miracle of sorts, he knew. That she was still there, her warm, naked body pressed tightly to his side, one small hand resting comfortably on his chest was just unbelievable. He held her gently with one arm, the other laying lax by his side, and he had no idea of what he could say to make things all right. He'd had no control; no interest in having any, either, and he wished he could blame his actions on his demon, but he couldn't. Angelus hadn't been any more involved than he usually was, and... he still had his soul? He honestly didn't see how that was even possible, but it apparently was, although he'd never even imagined the heights of bliss to which his girl had carried him. A small sob caught in his throat, and he tensed as he felt her gentle fingers slip across his skin to pinch lightly at one straining nipple. "Willow..." he started.

He was brooding again. She could feel it. "Hush," she ordered kindly, rising up onto her elbow to watch her hand on his chest, "No words, Angel. Not yet." Her eyes slowly met his, and she smiled just a bit at the guilty look he wore. "No regrets, either," she clarified; "No angsty thoughts, no 'what have I done'-s-- none of that. Just... hush." She couldn't stop touching him, though, and she knew it. Every single part of her itched and ached for him, and "I won't let you over-think this. Not right now." Her mouth slowly moved towards his, and she actually saw the moment when he gave in. Her tongue traced languidly at his closed lips, and she sighed happily when they opened to let her take him in a deep kiss full of curiosity, and slow fire, and need. Her fingers continued toying with his tense male nubs-- first one, then the other, and when he groaned roughly into her mouth, she chuckled and pulled away. She stared deep into him, smiling at the stunned realization she saw there. "Yesss..." she hissed, her lips returning to him, this time to suck gently at the point of his chin.

And, God! He couldn't even remember why this was wrong, couldn't begin to understand if it actually was. It didn't *feel* wrong. None of it did. His head ground hard against the pillow, his neck arching as her lips slid to the wound he'd given himself the night before, and he knew it was healed, and therefore not overly sensitive, but he couldn't tell. It felt like she was drinking him again for the first time, and he cried out with anxious desire. "Please!" He felt himself growing harder; felt the first slick drops oozing from his thick head, and he wasn't even sure he could stand this any longer. "Please, Will, please, baby," he heard himself begging. He felt her answering chuckles more than he heard them, and his fingers clenched hard at the sheets, tearing holes in the heavy cotton as her mouth tasted his skin willfully. His eyes blazed golden and locked on the ceiling as she licked slowly, sinfully, at one tight male bud.

The tension racing through him was incredible. She could feel the small tremors in his muscles as she took her time learning him. His neck, his chest, his small nipples... he shook more desperately as she dipped her tongue sweetly into his perfectly-shaped navel, and knowing she was causing that reaction in him was just... amazing to her. She pulled back a bit and gazed at his thick, ready shaft with a great deal of interest. The previous night had been far too frantic to allow her the opportunity to study him, and she'd never seen an uncircumcised penis before, after all. Her lips pursed and she blew one long, slow breath across his seeping head, almost giggling at the strained growl that flew from him, then exhaled over him once more, a sly smile blossoming on her lips when that long thickness jumped. Her fingers reached for him, barely brushing the loose-looking skin of his tip, and she gasped at its softness before her hand slipped down, wrapping tenderly around his tense shaft.

He almost flew off the bed when he felt her sweet, wet tongue sweep slowly across him. Then her hand was moving firmly but gently up and down his ready member, and when her lips were actually wrapped around him, he cried out wordlessly and deeply. His hands suddenly found her head, tangling desperately in her thick red hair, and he growled again. He'd planned on talking to her, telling her how sorry he was for treating her the way he had, but... This was better, he told himself, completely unsurprised to find Angelus agreeing. And he would have been lying, anyway, because he wasn't sorry at all. Not now. He felt his face shifting and was powerless to stop it, but it didn't matter, he knew. The girl was his, just as he was hers, and... "Fuck!" he screamed, as her blunt human teeth scraped wickedly up the underside of his shaft.

She felt dark, and desirous, and ready to take him. The way she'd felt while in the throes of her addiction to Dark Magic was nothing to the way she felt at that moment. Wickedness and a slight tinge of true evil raced through her blood, and she understood swiftly that it was due to the bond they'd created. She could be just as bad as he needed her to be because she was bound not only to the sparkling soul she could feel, but to the swirling depths of his demon, as well. It was a sensation she welcomed; hell, she almost thought it was what she'd always needed. Her hand released him, sliding down to cup his softly haired sac as she slipped her lips to the base of him, and she moaned at feeling him buried deep in her throat.

He needed her badly, everything within him screaming out for her tight, wet core. Her mouth was just perfect, but... not this time, he decided. That should come later. When she was too sore to have him inside her again, maybe. His fingers tightened against her head, and he dragged her wildly up his body. "Take me, Will," he growled, his golden eyes hot and yearning, "Take me home..."

It was an order she was more than happy to obey, so she smirked into his eyes and positioned herself carefully. "Come home, Angel," she groaned, impaling herself fully on his throbbing shaft. Her eyes widened as he stretched her nearly to breaking, but the gasp that emerged from her lips bore nothing of pain, and everything of need, and longing, and pure satisfaction. He was long, and thick, and strong within her, and he was "Mine," she cried, raising herself swiftly, then sliding back down him more slowly than she'd known was possible. She felt each ridge and vein of him entering her, and the sensation was almost *too* right, but it was what she wanted-- what she needed-- so she repeated the action, her entire body screaming wickedly with the sense of him. Her fingers dug hard into his muscular chest as she rode him slowly, her eyes locked on his.

He was dying, he thought, because there was just no chance that the way she was taking him wouldn't kill him. His hands grasped tightly at her soft hips, and when she was completely surrounding him again, he held her still. "Too good, baby," he groaned; "Can't take it..." He shifted her slowly back and forth upon him, his shaft barely moving inside her, and... that was better, he decided, especially if he wanted her to be satisfied, as well. He felt her shaking, felt her slick center tightening rhythmically around him, and when she started to whimper, he moved her faster, loving the sensation of her hard, swollen little nub rubbing hard again his coarse dark curls. "God, yes!" he grunted, his heavy sac drawing up tight to his body. His fingers dug roughly into her soft, pale skin and when she screamed again, her head thrown back, body trembling wildly, his own back arched once, twice, three times, and he exploded deep within her tender heat. "Love you," he gasped, barely finding the breath to speak, "Love you, Will... love you..."

She couldn't quite manage to move, and just lay there on him, the huge tremors passing through her slowly becoming smaller. She breathed deep desperate gasps of air as she waited for her heart to stop tripping in triple-time, and finally, finally managed to raise her head to look at him. She stared wide-eyed at his demon face, finally admitting the truth to both herself and him. "I don't know if I always did," she said slowly, "But Gods know I do now. Love you, Angel. More than anything."

If his heart could have burst from sheer joy, he knew it would have in that moment. As it was, he was entirely sure he felt it swelling in his chest. His arms held her tightly to him, his softening shaft still planted deep within her, and he couldn't keep the triumph and satisfaction from his voice. "Good," he said sincerely. "I don't know what I'd do if you didn't." He rolled them slowly onto their sides, and pulled himself from her reluctantly. "We need to figure out why I'm still me, though," he told her after a moment. "Not that I'm sorry, but if there's any chance that... in the future..."

Willow shook her head, a small, tired smile on her lips as she pressed herself closer to him. Her fingers moved lightly up and down his side as she stared into his face. "I'm bound to your demon *and* your soul, Angel-- just as they're both bound to me. You won't be going anywhere." She watched as the full understanding of what she'd just said flowed over him, grinning when he smiled more broadly than he'd ever done in her presence. "Your soul is safe with me, love," she added, "The same way it would be safe if you *didn't* love me."

And that explained the whole Darla incident, he supposed. It wasn't orgasms that were 'true happiness'; not at all. He could have slept with Darla every day for eternity and retained himself just fine. It was only that he'd gone and created that bond with Willow that had kept him safe where love was involved. "Mine," he sighed, his lips on hers once more.

"Yours," Willow admitted before losing herself in his gentle touch.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He'd been sitting in the hallway ever since he'd gotten back from the bar, toying with the very sharp stake he'd fashioned. He might have been slightly drunk at first, but that didn't mean he was unaware of what the sounds coming from his Sire's room meant, and if he'd gotten even the faintest inkling that the sodding psycho-Angelus was back, he would have broken in and dusted the prick faster than the sodding git could have blinked. He'd almost done it, anyway, just because bloody Angel'd gone and seduced the girl somehow.

Still, it didn't sound like Red was objecting, so he'd finally decided to just wait it out. The cacophony of grunts and moans hadn't been fun, what with his currently single state, but... At least there'd been a brief respite while the witch and his Sire had slept. That it had all started up again was annoying but kind of expected.

Fortunately, he'd also been able to hear Red's words to the great pouf. They were bound now, apparently, and... no more bloody Angelus, it seemed. That was good, Spike figured, seeing as he was fairly sure that fuck would have turned the girl in a heartbeat. He'd heard about the vampire version of the little witch, after all, and... He didn't really fancy living in a world ruled by that.

He nodded sharply and struggled to his feet. The witch was fine. His Sire was still souled, but fine, nonetheless. It was time for him to seek his own bed, and then later... Well, later, he'd just have to go see the cheerleader. Find out if maybe the thoughts he'd been entertaining might be returned. It was possible, he figured; after all, he was one hell of a sexy devil, if he did say so himself.

He made his way to the stairs, tossing his stake from hand to hand as he walked up to his floor. Yeah, he'd go see Cordelia. Maybe ask her out or something. It had been a long time since he'd tried dating the way humans did; he thought it might be fun... for a little while.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The blonde girl glared angrily at the flesh-form of the Goddess. "Y-you p-p-promised!" she spat, eyes narrowed. "You p-promised it would happen on the S-S-Solstice!"

The Goddess nodded, entirely un-perturbed. "And it did. She is with her love. Bound irrevocably to that same love for all time."

Tara stared at the deity in shock, her mind spinning wildly. "No!" she cried, "She's not here! You're lying to me!"

Aramat sighed softly. "I have no reason to lie, child," she said kindly. "You asked that she be turned to her heart's love and tied to them forever. You asked that she be restrained from ever hurting that love; from disappointing that love. I agreed, and it is done. Willow shall never hurt him, and he shall never make her feel that she has ever let him down. You asked. I answered."

"H-him?" Tara echoed, "Him? No..." She swallowed hard as tears fell from her eyes. "It was supposed to be me!" she cried, loss and pain filling her spirit. "She was supposed to come to *me*!"

"Ah," the Goddess replied quietly, "But that wasn't what you asked for. Your request has been granted, your terms fulfilled. Fare thee well, child." She wished she could feel badly for the girl, but she couldn't. She'd done what she'd promised, and... sometimes things didn't work out the way mortals desired. And sometimes, she reflected, thinking on the witch and the vampire-- sometimes they worked out better. The little redheaded witch was a strong one, and had a very important part to play in the future of the mortal realm. That she'd already loved the Warrior unknowingly had made things much easier. Aramat smiled gently and sent one small bolt of power winging towards Los Angeles. One final gift for the new couple, she thought, would not be amiss.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sudden snowstorm hadn't been expected by anyone; not even the National Weather Service. It seemed to have sprung up from nowhere.

Angel felt it, even in the depths of slumber, as the air stilled, then cooled. He woke as his witch shivered slightly in the cold gust from their open window, and he got up, finding his robe and wrapping it gently around her. He smiled softly when her eyes opened, because he hadn't wanted to wake her, but he also didn't want her to miss this. "I want you to see something, love," he purred, pulling her to her feet; "It's almost as beautiful as you are."

She couldn't help smiling while she pulled the large robe on fully, and when he swept her up into his arms, she laughed against the crook of his neck. "What is it, Angel?" she began; "What's so... ohhh!" Her arms tightened around him and she stared, awestruck, at the sight of a white-covered, pristine Los Angeles. She gazed for a moment at the cloud-laden sky and pressed a soft kiss to her vampire's cheek. "Let's go out," she begged gently.

His own eyes checked the sky and he nodded, laughing. "Let's," he agreed, setting her down so she could run to her room and dress. He'd have to help her move, of course, but that was a thought for later. After all, he was sure she'd be wanting her things from Sunnydale; not just what she had upstairs. He clothed himself swiftly and wandered down to the lobby to wait for her. He thought for a moment about waking his childe, but was distracted by the sound of the lobby doors being unlocked. "Cordelia? What are you doing here? There's a snowstorm going on!"

The Seer snorted and rolled her eyes. "Really? Oh. Then that's the white stuff that had me on my ass all the way here?" She turned around then, displaying the ice crystals embedded in the seat of her pants. "It was sunny when I left my place, and then *snow*!"

Angel laughed and pulled the girl into a hug. "Well, on the bright side, at least it's a White Christmas, right?"

She couldn't keep herself from laughing, herself; mostly because she'd never seen the vampire acting so... happy. "Yeah," she allowed, "But I was bringing food to do Christmas dinner with, and the snow got the bag wet, and..."

"Don't worry about it, Cordelia," Angel said smugly, "I already have all the fixings. It was going to be a surprise for Willow, you know? A real holiday supper. It was all delivered yesterday; we just need to heat it up when we're ready."

"You hired a caterer?" Cordelia demanded, entirely shocked. She'd known Angel had a bit of a thing for Willow, but... he'd spent money on her? That was so much more serious than she'd thought.

"Not exactly," Angel admitted. "Do you remember Richard? The anamovic demon Doyle's ex was going to marry? Well, he felt like he owed me for the way his brothers tried to kill me, so..." he shrugged. "I told him if he did this we'd be even."

And that was even worse. He'd called in a favour in order to make Willow happy. "Uh..." she said, backing away, "Are you still... Angel?" If he wasn't, then... but he seemed so happy, which-- now that she thought about it-- made it even more of a valid question.

Willow couldn't help giggling loudly as she skipped down the stairs. She smiled up at Angel when she reached him, then pulled him into a soft, slow kiss. "Hi," she chirped before turning to the completely baffled and wide-eyed brunette. "Hi, Cordy; Merry Christmas. And yes, he's still Angel. Always will be." Her brow furrowed slightly when the other girl shivered. "You're cold," she stated, "And wet." She sighed softly, shaking her head sadly at her love. "Honey, just so you know? Keeping wet humans standing around in like forty degrees is a really good way to end up with *sick* humans." She chuckled quietly at his sheepish smile. "Go upstairs, Cord. Use the shower in my room, and put on some of the things we bought the other day, okay? I'm taking Broody out to play in the snow."

The brunette watched her two friends walk out of the hotel hand in hand, confusion clear on her face. What the hell? He called in favours for her, she called him honey, and what the hell? Still, she really *was* cold, so she decided to figure it out later. She started up the stairs, only to collide with the blond vampire on his way down. "Spike," she said wistfully, "I'm completely out of the loop; what's going on?"

And she sounded so pitiful he almost felt sorry for her. "Long story, pet," he answered, one arm going round her shoulders. "Let's get you out of those wet things first, right?" With any luck, he'd be able to *keep* her out of them, too. Screw dating, he decided. His eyes gleamed wickedly as he led her up the stairs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dinner had been lovely, but it in no way matched the true perfection of the smallish redhead in his arms. They stood on the roof in the surprisingly warm breeze and watched as the snow slowly melted. "I liked playing in the snow," Angel murmured against his woman's ear, "Especially with you..."

Willow blushed hotly, remembering just how close they'd come to indecently exposing themselves. "I think the cold froze you brain," she teased lightly, holding him closer.

He shrugged happily, swaying just a bit. "Yeah, well, I don't think we'll be seeing snow again anytime soon, so... It was fun. You were fun. You *are* fun."

"And yours," she added; "Don't forget 'yours', Angel."

"Always mine," he whispered. "And snow or not, always yours."

She leaned a bit more against him, her fingers rubbing softly at his back beneath his coat. "You know," she went on, suddenly realizing, "It was snowing when we left Sunnydale, too. Solstice snow."

His purely contented moan was low and dark, but he smiled around it. "And now we have Christmas snow, too. Hmmm... it's like a benediction, in a way."

"Winter snow to start us off, and winter snow to seal us?" she asked, wondering. She'd asked the Goddess to show her her love, and had gotten so much more than she'd expected. The snow just made it seem that much more special.

"Something like that," Angel agreed, pulling his coat around them both. He felt his witch trembling slightly anyway, and smiled wickedly. "You're cold, baby," he murmured. "Let's get you inside and I'll warm you up." Forever, he swore silently.

The End

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