Rating: PG
Summary: The scoobies celebrate Thanksgiving and Spike is the odd man out.
Spoilers: Not really...
Reviews: YES PLEASE! Send to werevamp13@yahoo.com
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It was Thanksgiving and the Summer's home was crazy. Anya, Willow and Buffy were all hurrying around the kitchen, desperately trying to get dinner ready in time. In the living room, Riley and Xander watched the football game as Giles tried to tune them out and get some quality reading in.
"So, I ran into Spike a couple days ago," Buffy mentioned as she and the girls cooked.
"Really? Did you invite him to dinner?" Anya asked. Buffy nodded as she stirred something on the stove.
"Yeah, but he didn't sound like he was going to come," she answered. Willow's face fell. She had really hoped that they would be able to spend some time together. Spike was great, he had the looks, the charm, and most importantly: that accent. While Willow dreamed of a peroxide-died Vamp, Riley came into the kitchen on a quest for beer. Not paying any attention, Willow ran right into the refrigerator door just as it swung open. With a yelp, she fell backward, the jar of cranberry sauce breaking and spilling everywhere.
"Will!" Buffy yelled, hurrying over to her fallen friend. Riley, after grabbing a couple beers, joined his girlfriend, sympathy evident on his face.
"I'm sorry Willow. Are you all right?"
"Yeah. I guess I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. Oh no! Look at this mess. I'll go get a mop!" Willow exclaimed as she got up. Buffy waved off her friend's worry.
"I'll clean it up. Why don't you just go to the store and get another jar of cranberry sauce?" Buffy suggested. With an absent nod, Willow grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
***
It was already getting dark when Willow left the store. Worried about being late, she tucked her bag under her arm and picked up her pace.
"In a hurry, Red?" A familiar voice asked from behind. Willow spun to be face to face with the same Vamp that she had been dreaming about earlier.
"Spike! You startled me." She said. He smiled an apology, and gesturing toward the bag under her arm inquired about its contents. Quickly Willow told him about how she had fallen and broke the other jar, leaving out the part about dreaming about him, of course.
"Oh. Well, you best be getting back to your feast then," Spike said, turning to leave. *No!* thought Willow, *Don't go! Stop him, Willow.*
"Wait!" she yelled. Spike turned around expectantly and all of Willow's confidence went out the non-existent window. "Um...do...would you...like to come to dinner?" she stuttered. Spike's eyebrows raised.
"Eh?"
"Well, Buffy said she had invited you...and we have plenty of food...and...well, I'd like you to come," Willow stuttered. Spike smiled and walked toward her.
"You're the only one, luv. I don't want to crash,"
"Come on, Spike. I'm all alone there. Buffy's got Riley, Xander has Anya, and Giles...well,"
"Has his books," Spike finished for her. She laughed uncertainly.
"Please? No one should be alone on Thanksgiving."
Laughing, Spike answered, "I'm British. We don't celebrate this sodding holiday."
Willow's hopes were shot. What could she say now to convince him?
"You've been in this country long enough...maybe you should," she said. He just grunted at that, and Willow desperately tried to think of something else.
"They're watching a football game...and...and...and there's beer!" she tried, hoping against hope that that would be enough. And it was. With a smile and a laugh, Spike made a great sweeping bow, and offered Willow his arm.
"Lead the way, pet."
***
Willow sat next to Spike at dinner. The food was great, the beer was excellent, and to Willow, the company was perfect. With a slight smile, Spike reached under the table and too Willow's hand. She squeezed it silently and took another swig of beer. Now she had something to be thankful for.
The End