“We all live in a Yellow Submarine. A Yellow Submarine. A Yellow Submarine.” Wesley sang as Chase yowled at the top of his lungs. Wesley had been through most of the Beatles catalogue, including the White Album and still Chase wailed. “Oh come on, old man, we’re tough manly types, we can through a little diaper rash can’t we?”
Wesley yawned. As much as he loved his godson, this 1 to 3 a.m. shift was killing him. He couldn’t wait for Angel to come relieve him. Wesley bounced the baby gently on his shoulder. He sat down in Chase’s favorite rocker and rolled him back and forth. The crying subsided to a persistent sniffle.
“I know how you feel, little one,” he said. “All uncomfortable and a bit wet around the knickers. I’ve had something eating at me for the last few weeks and I just can’t get it out of my head…. Maybe you can help me out. What would you do if you were so in love with a woman that you couldn’t breathe without her…. You’d propose to her, right?” Chase babbled and thumbed Wesley’s nose. Wesley grinned. “Well, you’d probably soil yourself, suck your thumb and wait for the next nap to come on, but I’m afraid that’s not an option for me. How do you a woman that you never really felt at home anywhere until she came into the same room as you? That you can’t stand the idea of spending the rest of the day without her, much less the rest of your life? I bought the ring weeks ago, it‘s just with everything that‘s going on, I haven‘t had a chance to come up with a really good proposal idea. I mean I can‘t just shove the box at her and say, ‘Here you go doll, let‘s get hitched.’”
Chase gabbled. Wesley took a long look at the baby, in his little, “I’m the reason Santa has a naughty list” sleeper. Christmas!
“That’s it!” Wesley said, hugging the baby, who slobbered enthusiastically down his neck. “Thanks a lot, Chase, you’ve given me a great idea.”
He stood, knocking the baby’s blanket from his shoulder. Wesley bent to pick it up, smacking his forehead against the corner of the crib. Chase giggled. “I see we’ve inherited our daddy’s predilection toward pain.” Wesley grumbled.
“I heard that,” Angel said, coming through the nursery door. Wesley grinned and handed the vampire’s son to him.
Angel grinned as he always did when looking at his son. He made kissing noises on the boy’s forehead as Wesley waved goodnight and shuffled off to his room.
“So what were you and uncle Wesley talking about?” he asked, rocking the baby. “Is he still trying to figure out how to propose? You wanna know a little secret? Auntie Fred already knows about the whole thing. All he has to do is wave the ring box in front of her and she’ll scream yes at the top of her lungs, isn’t that silly? All he has to do is ask.”
Chase gabbled happily as Angel made funny faces at him. “Daddy has a different problem all together. Do you have time to talk about it? Man to man? I mean, I don’t want to interrupt your busy schedule of napping, crying and having your diapers changed.”
Chase giggled. Angel grinned. “Good, thanks. I know things were a little weird when you first came home. I mean, I’m sure you remember your mommy’s voice and what it felt like to be inside of her and then you come home and you have two different ladies taking care of you, one of whom you seem really fond of. Cordelia loves you, kiddo. There’s no question about it. And I’m glad because you need a mother in your life. I know I couldn’t do this alone. But Daddy loves Cordelia, too. In a different way.”
Angel grinned at the memory of yesterday morning, when he’d come bounding through the nursery, looking for Chase.
“We’re in here having a bath,” Cordy had yelled from his bathroom. Unfortunately, when Cordy said “we’re having a bath,” she meant it. Angel came in and discovered his son and his Seer naked and glowing in the tub. Cordy giggled as she lowered Chase into the water and brought him splashing out. Chase blew bubbles at her. After a few moments, Angel forced himself to turn around.
“Daddy’s a little upset that you’ve seen Cordy naked before I got to,” Angel told Chase. “But I’ll get over it. The question is, how do I tell Cordy how I feel about her?”
Chase burped and bobbed his head.
“There have so many near misses with us,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe how our relationship started out, she was the biggest pain in the-- well, she wasn’t very nice, ok. But she’s grown so much and she gives so much and…. I love her. I do. I love her. I want her to spend the rest of her life with me. But how I do tell her that?”
Angel settled into the rocking chair and began swaying back and forth. He yawned, making Chase yawn back. “I tell you what. How about you tell her, ok? I’ll buy you a shiny red sports car.”
Angel buried his nose against his son’s baby shampoo-scented hair as he drifted off to sleep.
“Angel,” Dawn said, shaking his shoulder. “Angel!”
“Wha!?” Angel said, starting awake.
“You need to wake up and get downstairs,” she said.
“Huh?”
Dawn pointed at a shaft of sunlight that was making its way across the nursery floor. Angel carefully handed the baby off to Dawn and made a run for the door. He came running back, kissed the baby goodbye and ran again.
Dawn laughed and rolled her eyes.
“Daddy’s a silly,” she told the baby. “A big-browed, weird-haired silly.” She sniffed. “Shhoo! A silly who needs to change his son’s diaper before he hands him off to someone. Come on, Chasey, let’s get you cleaned up and fit for company.”
“So had the weirdest dream last night,” she said as she stripped off his sleeper. He kicked his bare legs in the air and babbled. “I know, aren’t dreams wacky? I was in Gunn’s arms and he was kissing me. It was really, really nice. One of those dreams where you wake up and you’re really disappointed that it wasn’t real?”
“I really like him,“ She tossed the soiled diaper away and quickly replaced it. “I mean I know he’s older and we have different backgrounds. But he’s always so nice to me.”
She picked him up and bounced him gently. “So what do you think I should do? Walk up to him and just jump his bones? Or do you think that would be too forward?”
“DAWNY, breakfast!” Willow called from downstairs.
“I should probably wait on the whole bone-jumping thing until I’ve choaked down my oatmeal, you think?” she asked, leaving the room. “When I’m in charge, you’re never going to have to eat oatmeal, kid, I promise.”
Fred, Cordy and Willow were waiting for her when she came downstairs. Willow was dishing out breakfast. Fred was preparing a chemistry lesson on how hydroxides affect dragon hide. Cordy was busy researching their latest demon challenger.
“Hello, Chasey!” she said, springing up from her seat. “You smell April fresh. I guess Dawn was generous with the powder.”
“He was in serious need of some freshening,” Dawn said, grinning.
“Thanks,” Cordy said, sitting him on her lap as she returned to her computer.
“Cinnamon?” Willow asked, levitating the spice over Dawn’s bowl as she poured the juice. Everyone pretended that the neon purple hickeys on her neck did not exist.
“A shot or two,” Dawn said. Just then, Wes and Gunn came barreling through the lobby door. Apparently a training exercise had gotten out of control and now they were doing hand to hand combat on the lobby floor.
“Morning,’” Willow said as if this were an everyday occurrence.
“Morning,” Wesley said, blocking Gunn‘s punch and throwing him to the ground. “I say is that oatmeal?”
Gunn swept Wesley’s feet and laid a choke-hold on him. “Morning,” he said, grinning at Dawn, who blushed furiously.
“So what on the learnin’ agenda for today, Fred?” she asked. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Gunn and Wesley froze as two rather tight-assed looking suits came through the door. They flashed ID badges. The cinnamon container clattered to the table. Fred quickly hid the dragon’s hide in her desk drawer. Gunn and Wesley stood, looking sheepish.
“What’s meaning of this?” Cordy asked, bobbing Chase on her hip. Her body language screamed “mother lioness.”
“We have a report of a minor living in this establishment without custody
consent,” the younger man said. “We’re with children and family services.”
~Part: Seven~
The suits looked around the hotel in a stunning display of disapproval. One was about to turn towards the gaping weapons cabinet, when Willow closed it quietly from across the room. Suit 1 wiped the staircase with one hand as if he found a thick coating of dust. Cordy tried hard to remember whether she’d managed to clean up all of the Mochlor blood from the bannister from when it broke into the hotel the previous week. The baby chose that moment to spit up down Cordy’s back and start crying. Suit 2 began scribbling in his little notepad.
Cordy glared at Wes, who sprang to his feet and came to Cordy’s side, wrapping his arm around her a la “American Gothic.” Fred swallowed her displeasure, remembering that it was for Chasey and she couldn’t get mad… for long.
“Look, if this is about the baby,” Cordy said. “Both of the parents are right here. We share custody.”
“Yes, Cordelia Chase and Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.” Suit 2 read from his file.
“Are you two married?” Suit 1 asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Cordy demanded. “Are you two married?”
Suit 2 started scribbling again. Wesley pinched Cordy, reminding her to keep her temper in check. She glared.
Suite 1 said, “Well, ma’am, we’re not here about the baby, though we will certainly investigate his welfare. We’re here to see the minor Dawn Ethel Summers, age 15?”
“Ethel?” the other said, jaws dropped as they looked to Dawn.
“Damn monks,” Dawn muttered, stepping forward. Willow came with her. “That’s me.”
Suit 1 shook her and smiled thinly. “Yes, nice to meet you Miss Summers.”
“I’m Dawn’s guardian,” Willow said. “I have sole custody.”
“And your papers are?” Suit 2 asked.
“Right here.” Willow said, pulling them from the office safe. She silently blessed Angel foresight and Lorne’s shapeshifter friend who worked as a paralegal down at the county courthouse. They fake Dawn’s custody papers right after Chase’s birth certificate. “We filed these six months ago.”
“Everything appears to be in order,” Suit 2 said to Suit 1, as if slightly disappointed.
“Why don’t we all sit down?” Suit 1 said to Willow and Dawn. The whole group followed to the lobby sitting area. The suits shot them withering looks.
“Is this hotel operational?” Suit 2 asked.
“Only as a private investigation service,” Cordy said, handing him their permits, lease agreements, licenses and renovation compliance papers before he could ask for them. “We all work here as well.”
Suit 1 arched an eyebrow. “And by we you mean….”
“All of us,” Fred said. “Except for Dawn of course, because that would violate federal labor laws and our strict 6 p.m. bedtime policy. We always say , bedtime after the Muppets.”
Dawn grimaced. The Muppets Show hadn’t been on since, like 1986. Someone need to give Fred a TV Guide.
“And you are?” Suit 2 asked.
“Her teacher,” Fred said, handing him her teaching license, home school registration and few of Dawn’s latest assignments, including a seven page math problem to arrive at 13.7 as the number of chocolate chips really found in each Chips Ahoy cookie.
“And your address?” he asked.
“Right here,” Fred said.
“You live here, too?” Suit 1 asked, scribbling.
“Yes,” Fred said.
“Exactly how many people live here?”
“9,” Fred said. “Including the baby.”
“7,” Wesley corrected. Fred shot him a glare that said. “Do NOT question my math skills, infidel.”
Wesley smiled. “There are seven people LIVING here, Fred. Sometimes it just feels like nine.”
Fred smiled and laughed apologetically at the Suits. Unfortunately, Spike chose that exact moment to come padding through the kitchen, shirtless, yawning in full game face. Willow made a glaring face and waved frantically at him. Spikewinced and dropped to the floor behind the office counter. Willow laughed. The others laughed, which sound strange, high and false. Cordy’s jaw clenched. They were blowing it!
“So you all live here?” Suit 2 asked.
The nodded.
“And none of you are related?” Suit 1 asked.
They shook their heads.
“And none of you are married?”
They shook their heads. Cordy scowled. What was this guy’s hang-up on marriage?
“And where do you fit into this picture?” Suit 2 asked Gunn.
“It’s cause I’m black, isn’t it?” he fired back.
Both suits snapped their notebooks shut at that and stood. “All of your paper work seems to be in order, but we’d like to tour the hotel. Make sure the living situation meets standards.”
“Of course,” Willow grinned.
Two hours later, they waved a cheerful goodbye to the suits, who promised to be back soon to check on them all. Willow sank into the lobby couch, exhausted. Keeping those two away from all the medieval weapons, occult books, and various other dangerous-to-minors type things had been a chore. Willow had to glammer and memory charm like the dickens to keep them happy.
“Can I get up from behind the bloody counter now?” Spike asked.
Willow giggled and went to heat up a cup of blood for him. The others were also exhausted, but all hugged Dawn, glad that she was safe and sound and with them. Angel came down the stairs whistling. He hopped over to Cordy took the baby and gave him a loud smacking kiss. He surveyed his scattered friends.
“What’d I miss?”
~Part: Eight~
“Come on, guys, hurry up!”
“Hey, we don’t even know if you’ll show up on film or not, so shush.”
“Hey, your elbows in my eye!”
“We do too show up on film, that’s a total misnomer.”
“How do you set the timer?”
“How’s my hair?”
“Spike, you haven’t seen your hair in 120 years, why are you worried about it now?”
Angel grinned as he watched his family scramble in front of the fireplace
and tried to fix the camera so it would go off in another thirty seconds.
The mantle was draped in greenery and Christmas lights, much like everything
else in the hotel that wasn‘t nailed down. White and gold candles glowed
softly behind Cordy and Willow as they laughingly tried to arrange everyone
suitably. Wesley and Gunn were standing behind a round settee with Fred
on Wesley’s left. Dawn had drifted near Gunn, very subtly, and was now
standing in front of him, with his hands on her shoulders. Spike was sitting
on ground near Willow’s knee. She sat on the right of Cordy, who was sitting
in the middle of the settee, holding Chase, who looked quite adorable in
his little red sleeper.
Angel pressed the red button and scrambled over to Cordy. She handed
the baby off to him and kissed his cheek. He grinned and as the flash went
off and thought of the group Christmas shopping trip earlier that night.
Eager to avoid the tackiness of the mall, they‘d decided to go to a little Bohemian shopping district off Melrose…. Way off Melrose. It was practically Diagon Alley, according to Dawn, whatever that meant. There were occult book shops, potion supply houses and even a magical creature emporium and mixed in with clothing stores, charm and amulet shops and oddly enough, a Kinko’s.
Angel had refused to relinquish the stroller, no matter how much Spike begged. So the two vampires shared pushing-duty as the women split off from the group. Dawn wanted to visit the magic pet shop. Willow claimed she had to refill her potion supplies. And Fred said she needed to make some copies. Of course, the men knew it was all a total lie, but they humored their women.
“Right,” Spike said, clapping his hands and wiggling his fingers at the baby. “Off to find something sparkly that will make Auntie Willow do that thing where she rolls her lower back again.”
Angel’s jaw dropped. He put his hands over Chase’s ears. “Hello? Little ears here.”
“What does she do with her back?” Wesley asked, keenly interested. He was happy someone in the hotel was having sex. He and Fred were taking things slow. Very very very slow. He knew he shouldn’t complain and there was no way in hell he would rush her, but dammit if he had known he was going to have to be celibate until marriage, he would have picked a much less attractive girlfriend. Every time he saw Fred, every nerve in his body screamed for her. Occasionally, he let out a little yelp, it was very embarrassing.
“You’re not old enough, mate,” Spike grinned. Wesley scowled and chucked Spike’s shoulder.
“So what are you getting Fred?” Gunn asked.
“Well,” Wesley said, looking around. Fred was no where in sight. He led them to a nearby jewelry shop, where the owner greeted him with a smile and went to the back stockroom. He emerged with a small velvet tray.
“It’s right here, Mr. Wyndham-Price,” said the jeweler, Mr. Hwang, who had become accustomed to Wesley’s weekly visits. He’d never met a man who was more worried about selecting the right ring. Wes had changed him mind three times before choosing an ornately carved silver band holding a perfect one-carat square diamond.
“Cor!” Spike shouted. “You’re kidding!”
Angel grinned like mad. “Congratulations, Wesley, it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”
Wes laughed. “I couldn’t figure out how to do it, but Chase gave me the idea, Christmas. I‘m going to propose over Christmas morning.”
“Chase gave you the idea?” Spike asked.
“Yes.”
“You know he can’t actually talk, right?” Angel asked.
An hour later, the men emerged from the shop with Mr. Hwang grinning wildly and waving at them. Their purchases had just made him a very happy man. Gunn was the only one leaving without a package, he didn’t think he and Dawn were quite to the jewelry phase yet. Spike opened up Willow’s box and checked the necklace again. The perfectly matched emeralds glistened from their velvet nest, stretched across an intricately set chain of silver filagree.
“Spike, stop checking, it’s still there,” Angel said.
“Says the man who made Wesley try on two dozen bracelets,” Spike snorted.
“I thought we agreed never to talk about that again,” Wesley said.
“We can’t help it if you have very delicate wrists, Wes,” Gunn shrugged.
“Gunn! We had a gentleman’s agreement!”
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“Cordy, Angel has thirty black sweaters, he doesn’t need another one,” Dawn said.
“Yes, but look at this one, it has so much personality!” Cordy said, holding up the black vee neck.
“What about this one?” Willow asked.
“No.” Cordy said, squeaking slightly.
Fred burst into giggles. She shifted the bag holding the series of first edition spell books for Wesley so she wouldn’t fall over with the laughing.
“Please,” Dawn begged. “If you don’t buy it, I will, it’s the ultimate gag gift!”
“I am not buying Angel a big Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer sweater.”
Cordy cried. “Its nose lights up for God’s sake.”
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Xander opened his Sunnydale mailbox, whistling a happy tune as he sifted through bills (happily, none of which were marked “final notice,” a step up from his childhood.) several credit card offers, (thank you, steady employment) and what he hoped was his receipt for the necklace he got Anya for Christmas. On the bottom of the pile was a bright red envelope from Angel Investigations.
He grinned. “Ahn!”
A slightly plumper Anya emerged from the old Summers place. She grinned and rubbed her belly. “Honey, come feel this, it feels like there’s a goldfish in here.”
“Look at this, we’ve been invited for Christmas!” he said, opening the
envelope. A square pristine white card fell out, marked on the front with
Cordy’s silly-looking angel sketch in silver. "HAPPY HOLIDAYS!" it read.
Anya opened it up, seeing a picture of Angel’s family. Spike grinned smugly
from the ground, his arm draped over Willow’s knees. Dawn was in the back,
beaming as a handsome young black man wrapped his arm around her shoulders
and mugged for the camera. Wesley smiled down at a slender brunette who
was looking at him in an expression that could only be described as complete
adoration. And in the middle of it all sat Cordy and Angel, who were smiling
at each other, oblivious to the world, as the baby in Angel’s arms look
poised to spit up on them all.
~Part: Nine~
"Oh, come on, Spike!" Willow cried, giggling. "That's not how the song goes!"
"It bloody well does," Spike said, plucking the chords faster on his guitar. "Now come on, love, swallow some more egg nog and your pride and sing with me, come on, pet it will be fun!"
Wesley and Gunn joined Spike at the fireplace as he bounced back and forth on his heels troubadour-style. Fred did a spit -take as Wes turned around and shook his fanny. Cordy laughed so hard, the aforementioned nog almost came out her nose as Spike jangled the beginning to the verse again. Angel kissed Chase's ear and whispered, "Big brother Spike has gone just a littttttttle bit crazy. But don`t worry, it`s not hereditary."
It was Christmas Eve, the night they had all looked forward to so much. Silly Santa hats were worn. Carols were sung and egg nog was flowing like water, except thicker and little yicky. Even Lorne joined in, sporting a candy-cane striped ascot. Angel couldn't help but enjoy the spectacle, knowing how much fun his family was having, Spike especially. His childe had never had a good Christmas as a mortal … and his vampiric ones, well, Angel shuddered to think what Angelus had put the blonde through over the holidays. Though Fred missed her parents, they were supposed to come by for a visit sometime the next day. The others didn't know or didn't care where their parents were. It was amazing to Angel that people with such bad parents had grown up to strive to rid the world of evil. He cradled Chase in his arms, vowing that his own son would never feel the way Cordy, Wes or Willow felt about their fathers.
"Come on, pet," Spike begged.
"Oh fine," Willow sighed.
"On the first day of Christmas, the Powers sent to me, 12 portals opening, 11 evil law firms, 10 painful visions, 9 empathic demons, 8 physicists, 7 former Watchers, 6 prophecies, FIIIIIIVE SLIIIIMMMY THINGS, four Gruselugs, three Little Bits, two vampires and a witch stuck up in a tree!"
"I'm really not comfortable with this song," Willow said.
"And why wasn't there a former vengeance demon or a carpenter verse?" a voice asked from the foyer.
The group turned to see Xander and his pregnant wife standing on the stairs. Willow whooped and ran over to them, throwing her arms around Xander. Dawn was next, followed by a less effusive Cordy. Wes, Angel and Spike merely gave them firm handshakes, except for Anya, who got a hug from her favorite blonde vamp. The Harrises were introduced to Gunn and Fred, who was charmed by Anya's strange speech, so much like her own.
"Let's get this dinner going, huh?" Cordy said, leading the others to the dining room. Willow had led the women in a cooking mission like Los Angeles had never seen. There was food as far as the eye could see, including blood pudding and body-temperature O pos in a tasteful, carefully labeled silver tureen. Dinner was eaten over the course of three hours, mostly stalled by laughing and talking. Chase somehow managed to get mashed potatoes in Angel's ears, which the rest of the table found hilarious. Anya asked very timidly to hold the baby, then passed him to Xander, claiming he needed the practice. Chase giggled happily and commenced pulling on Xander's nose.
"Ow!" he grinned. "He knows it doesn't come off, right?"
"He thinks they grow back," Lorne shrugged. Xander grimaced and held the baby a little further away.
"Uhhh, I'll never eat again," Gunn moaned, rubbing his stomach.. "Nothing is ever going in this belly again."
"Oh, are you sure?" Dawn asked. "I made pie."
"Except for maybe pie." Gunn said. Dawn grinned and gave him a he slice of pecan pie. He smiled at her, looking a little sick, but managed to get through the whole slab.
"Pass a little of that pie this way, Dawny," Xander said, thinking of how much he missed his honorary little sis and her kitchen experiments. Of course, the world may never be ready for Peanut Butter and Jelly Quesadillas.
"Alright Angel, you know what time it is," Spike said, sitting back with his arm around Willow. "It's tradition."
"Oh, come on Spike," Angel said, shifting uncomfortably.
"What?" Cordy asked.
"Ever year, after our Christmas kill…dinner, Angelus would gather us around the fireplace and recite `Twas the Night Before Christmas, only in his own inimitable style."
"It's really not appropriate," Angel said, glancing at Dawn.
"Then make up a new one," Spike begged. "Puh-lease."
"Fine," Angel sighed.
(Picture if you will a montage of scenes. Willow and Spike slipping into bed together. Fred and Wesley kissing goodnight. Cordy kissing Angel's forehead as he rocked the baby to sleep. Gunn holding mistletoe over Dawn's head. Xander in bed with Anya, rubbing her belly, as Angel recites his poem.)
Twas the Night Before Christmas
And throughout the Hotel
Not a creature was stirring
Even the ones who'd been to Hell.
As Cordy was tucked into the wrong bed,
Her head danced with visions of the undead.
Spike couldn't sleep, he was too excited.
He couldn't hear the sleigh, when it upstairs alighted.
Though Santa came down the chimney with care
Spike was upset `cause soot got in his hair.
"Bloody hell!" he cried, and shook off the dust.
He looked at the elf with what could be bloodlust.
"So Sorry." Santa said, showing his care.
I was blinded by light and didn't see you there.
This house is a new stop, but I'm always glad.
When creatures of evil turned away from what's bad. "
"You must be Spike, it's here on the list,
A very good boy, except when you're pissed.
And Willow lives here, a fine little witch,
And Angel and Cordy, who was once a real bitch.
Fred, Dawn and Gunn are all up in this,
And Wesley the Brit, he of the lithe wrists.
And I can see in this house, there's a new addition,
A sweet little babe, who was born with a mission.
You've all been so good, one sleigh would not do.
My poor little reindeer had to drag two."
And so Santa grinned and his eyes did twinkle
As he twitched his nose and gave it a wrinkle.
Down the chimney came quite a haul
Of presents and goodies, crossbows and dolls.
"Holy shit" shouted Spike, "A brand new bo-staff.
And a funny pink shirt that will give Willow a laugh."
"Thanks, Santa," he cried, turning toward the light.
But the elf was gone, his sleigh taken flight.
"Merry Christmas to all," Spike said, "I'm going to get me some tonight!"
~Part: Ten~
Spike was having a wonderful dream. He was wrapped in a cocoon of warm soft blankets, snuggled against smooth skin and silky hair. The scent of pine and cinnamon spice was in the air. Warm fingers ran along his chest, playfully stroking the skin until he was hard and ready. Achingly soft lips kissed his flat belly, a tongue nipped at his bellybutton. His hips arched from the bed, eager to meet the questing mouth. Wet warmth enfolded his length, making him cry out in his sleep.
“Spike,” Willow murmured against his skin. “Wake up, it’s Christmas.”
His blue eyes snapped open. Willow was crouched over him, her head under the blankets. He arched an eyebrow and lifted them.
“Morning, pet.” he said, grinning as the incongruity of her naked white skin and the silly Santa hat perched at angle on her crown. “Merry Christmas.”
She pulled the blanket over her again and began tracing the lines of his hipbones with her tongue. “Yes, it’s Christmas morning, and how am I supposed to give you your first gift if you scream like that?”
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Wesley glanced at the clock again. 4:45 a.m. Far too early to wake everyone up. He knew it was childish to be so excited, but he was really looking forward to his first real family Christmas. His parents were always off skiing at Christmas, leaving Wesley to celebrate with the servants. Not to mention that this was the morning that he was going to propose to Fred. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the look on her face when he asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. He only hoped it wasn’t one of abject horror.
Her face was all he could see as he dozed off. A small shuffling noise brought him from sleep. He looked up to see Fred standing over him. She smiled and Wesley wondered if it was a dream. He lifted the blankets to let her slide into bed with him. As her arms wrapped around his body, he knew it was no dream. She was too warm, too real. He sighed and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Too excited. So many gift possibilities buzzing around in my head. The odds are all so fascinating. I could get anything. Notebook paper. A food processor. A new CD player.”
Wesley grinned. “Well, yes… a food processor?”
She shrugged. “You never know.”
He chuckled and pressed her closer, realizing that he could probably sleep this way for the rest of his life. They lay there, silent, for a few moments before both of them were fast asleep.
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Spike’s lovely dream was apparently contagious. In Angel’s sleep, he could feel smooth hands playing over his chest, stroking his neck. Warm flesh pressed against his, springing his dormant body to life. His arms wrapped around his dream lover, growling with pleasure as her mouth caressed his throat, licking the hollow where his pulse point should have been.
“Cordelia,” he moaned as the phantom’s warm mouth hovered over his.
“Yes?” she whispered.
Angel’s eyes snapped open. This was no dream. Cordy was in his bed, in his arms, in no clothes.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked, positioning her hips over his. He groaned at the sensation of her heat being so near him. She grinned. “Was I supposed to wait for you to make the first move? I’m only a mortal woman, Angel, I may not have that kind of time.”
“This will change everything,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Everything could use some changing,” she said, pushing her hips forward and enveloping him. He yelled, remembering the feeling of mortal warmth surrounding him. Cordy moved gently at first, attuning her body to being filled by him. He rolled over her, pressing her deep into the bed and he thrust into her.
“Merry Christmas, Angel,” she murmured as he fell into the dark oblivion of release.
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Spike stopped raining kisses against Willow’s shoulder as he heard a yelp from Angel’s room.
“What the?” he said, his hips freezing mid-thrust.
“If you stop moving, I’ll stake you right now,” Willow growled, pressing back against him, taking in his full length.
He grinned, resuming his rhythm. “That what I love about you, sweet, your willingness to commit violence to shag me, even on Christmas morning.”
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Anya rolled over to face her husband.
“Honey, are you awake?”
He grumbled. “Of course I’m awake, who can sleep with all the sex-noise going in this place?”
“Is it time to wake up yet?” she asked.
“Just about,” he yawned.
“Feel like a making a little sex-noise of our own?” she asked, pressing his hand to her lips.
He glanced down at her swelling belly. “Will it be ok? I mean the baby, he won‘t … eww.”
“Honey,” she giggled, kissing his neck. “How do you think he got there in the first place?”
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