Summary: Times are tough at the Summers' household, and it's your typical Hellmouth Holiday.
Rated: PG - for one whole swear word and violence toward a turkey
Spoilers: Set during Season 6 of BtVS, but without the dark angst created by Joss. In my universe Buffy's back from the dead, and Tara left after Willow restored her mind from Glory's brain-suckage.
Disclaimer: See above note. They all belong to that Joss guy.
A/N: Just a fluffy little piece to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving! Go stuff yourselves...on turkey and stuffing of course. :)
Warning: I received a brief postcard from my muse today. She's vacationing in the Caribbean and sends her best...which happens to be this fic.
Cassy - Warning! Put down the coffee. I repeat, do not drink the coffee!
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Willow's POV
I don't understand what happened. Honest. I know they all think it's my fault, that I made with the mojo, but I didn't. Honest. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a stake in my eye.
Everyone had arrived at our house, ready to pack on the pounds, stuff themselves with stuffing, cram down the yams. It was Thanksgiving at Buffy's. She isn't...let me rephrase that. She *wasn't* as stressed as she was the Thanksgiving that Xander got syphilis and the Shumash tribe interrupted our traditional little feast. Things were going really well...honest.
Xander and Anya showed up with the rolls and the pies. They were in the living room making with the smoochies when Giles arrived. He brought the cranberries and something called blood pudding...bet Spike would like it, but to me it sounded pretty icky. Speaking of Spike, he popped in about half an hour after the others. He brought...well, he brought a blanket because it was still slightly light out, his cigarettes, and a bottle of scotch that looked suspiciously like the brand Giles keeps under lock and key in his apartment. Giles must have thought so too 'cause he kept giving him the 'Ripper' glare.
Buffy, Dawn and I were hurrying around the kitchen making mashed potatoes, basting the turkey, and putting those cute little onions in with the peas. I know Buffy was worried about the turkey. Every time she opened the over to baste it, she chewed her lower lip like a piece of Juicy Fruit gum. Times are tough in the Summers' household right now, what with all of the bills rolling in. Windows and doors need replaced from our bimonthly demon attacks, not to mention the fact that Buffy and Dawn go through clothing like water through a sieve. Buffy with the slaying, and Dawn because I swear that girl grows three inches per month. Must be a mystical key thing.
Oh, I'm sorry. I went off on a wild and Willowy tangent, didn't I? As I was saying, we're all pinching pennies these days, and that included skimping on the turkey this year, getting the minimum size for the number of people...and vampire in attendance. Me, I'd gladly forfeit my share of the basted bird. It only makes me sleepy anyway. Just fork over those yams and stuffing and I'm one happy wiccan.
After the sixth basting, and the fifth lip-chewing, I approached Buffy and put a hand on her shoulder. "Buffy, it'll be fine. There's enough for everyone. Heck, Spike won't even eat any. Giles isn't crazy about it either."
"I know," she fretted. "I just look at it and think 'Charlie Brown Thanksgiving Turkey', ya know? It just seems so...small. Mom always used to have big..."
Her eyes filled up with tears. Yep, her first Thanksgiving without her mom. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and let her collect herself. Buffy's been really emotional lately. Oh, gee. That might have something to do with me pulling her out of *heaven*. Nope, no guilt here. Riiiight. I'm carting around enough guilt about that mistake to fill the Goodyear blimp, and then some. Too late now, though. Buffy's back, and I'm bound and determined that she have a great holiday. It's the least I can do. If anyone makes one comment about Smidget the Turkey and upsets Buffy, I'll zap them to Kalamazoo and back. Did you know Kalamazoo is a real place? It's somewhere in Michigan.
Oops, there's another one of those tangents. Sorry about that.
Anyway, Buffy straightened her shoulders, stiffened her spine and sniffled. No use crying over teenie turkeys, right?
The traditional Xander vs. Spike rumble began in the living room at that moment. Buffy and I went to play peacemakers, me with the pleading, Buffy with the threatening. She pushed Xander back onto the couch next to Anya, giving him a few pokes in the chest to show him that she wasn't kidding around. I, on the other hand, have a better way of distracting Spike from his snipping at my oldest friend. I grabbed his face and pulled him down into a nice, long kiss.
"Ewwww," Xander complained from the couch. His head tilted to the side so he could peer around Buffy. "Must you do that in front of me, Wills?"
Spike nipped my lower lip, and his smoky blue-gray eyes promised more and better things to come once the rest of the gang was passed out in their turkey-induced slumbers. After Buffy's death, Spike and I spent a lot of time together. We patrolled, took care of Dawnie, cried over the loss of Buffy...we bonded. When Tara took off, too scared to live the life of a Scooby, it just seemed natural for Spike and I to kind of drift together. And we are definitely *together*, in the biblical sense and everything.
That still wigged out Xander, thus his whiny comment. I smiled sweetly over my shoulder at him. "I couldn't help myself, Xand. I lose all control around Spike, you know that. He's turned me into a regular PDA machine."
We all sat down to chat for a while before heading back to the sweat box known as the Summers' kitchen. Giles was reciting the ingredients for blood pudding (Again, ew!) when there was a crash from the kitchen, and the sound of Dawnie shrieking in terror.
The gang and I rushed into the kitchen, only to stop short at the horror that awaited us. The oven looked like it had exploded, bits of metal everywhere. Side dishes and mashed potatoes were splattered all over the place. Xander's precious pumpkin pies were crunched on the floor under the largest damn turkey leg I had ever seen. My eyes trailed up, and up, and up until I was staring into the beady eyes of one very pissed off, very large turkey.
"Bloody hell!" Yep, my boyfriend, the former poet. He sure knows how to sum up a situation.
"He's got to be ten feet tall," Buffy gasped.
She grabbed the carving knife from the countertop, not that it would do her much good, I don't think. The knife probably looked like a nail file to the monstrous bird. He must have sensed some danger though, because he took off gobbling...right through the back door. Say good-bye to the nice back door everyone. That's the third one in three months. *sigh*
Spike chased after it to make sure we didn't lose sight of it. The rest of us raided the weapon's chest. We rushed outside and found that Spike had somehow backed it into the corner of the yard. A high fence and dense bushes were preventing its escape. Dear Goddess above, thank you for high fences. Not even the oblivious citizens of Sunnydale could miss a bird this big.
"How do we kill it," Buffy asked Giles.
He sputtered and eyed the hostile looking turkey warily. "I don't recall ever reading about a demonic turkey, Buffy. However, were I to guess, I believe that a simple beheading should do the trick. Willow?"
"Well, I suppose that would work. I mean, it's how they kill the regular ones, right? Eww, it's not going to run around afterwards like a chicken, is it?"
No one deemed to answer my question. Instead we slowly approached the gobbling menace. The turkey, formerly know as Smidget, decided that using his large and sharp beak as a weapon was his best option. It worked fairly well at first. Xander took a hit to the shoulder that knocked him for a loop. Giles got hit in the head...again. Anya was kicked aside after annoying the bird by beating it in the ass with a spiked mace. That couldn't have felt good...for either Anya or the turkey.
Spike and Buffy were making the most headway. They developed a strategy. One would attack while the other distracted. I was throwing energy balls at Smidget, but they just seemed to slide right over his feathers. Hmmm, armored feathers. I'll have to remember to add that to my demon database.
I picked up a sword abandoned by a still-dazed Xander, and charged the creature, only to be knocked aside by one very powerful wing. My boyfriend got a little cranky after that. Sorry Women's Lib, but when my vampire gets all growly and protective, I seem to get all tingly and swoony.
Spike roared his battle cry and lunged forward, lobbing off the turkey's head in one fell swoop. The body twitched momentarily; then Buffy had to dive out of the way to avoid being trapped under the falling carcass.
We all stood stunned and panting, trying to catch our breath, even Spike. I think more out of old human habits than anything else. All eyes turned to me suddenly. See, I told you they all thought it was me.
"Wills, I appreciate you trying to maximize our helpings, but was this really necessary?" Buffy asked.
"It wasn't me!" I protested. See, I just *knew* I was going to get blamed. "I didn't do anything! Not with the mojo, not with any special basting growth sauce, nothing. Honest!"
Dawn stood in the shattered doorway of the kitchen holding the remains of the cranberries. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean...I just wanted...I'm so sorry, Buffy. I never meant for this to happen."
"Dawnie," I asked, walking toward her, right behind her sister, "what are you talking about?"
The poor thing looked so miserable and pathetically unhappy at that moment, she could have told me she used my athame to chop tomatoes and I would have forgiven her.
"I just wanted there to be enough, ya know?" She lowered her gaze. "I wanted it to be a good Thanksgiving, and you were so worried there wouldn't be enough, Buffy."
She gazed at Dawnie, comprehension hitting her at once. "Dawn, what exactly did you do?"
The girl sniffled and wiped away a tear as the others gathered nearer. "While Xander and Spike were fighting, I went upstairs and found a spell in one of Willow's books...an enlarging spell. I thought that maybe if I made the turkey bigger you could relax and enjoy yourself, you know? Not be so tense."
"Oh, Dawn," Buffy whispered. She pulled her little sister into a hug. It was a Hallmark moment to be sure. I sniffled a little, I admit it.
"Well, this is all well and good, but what are we supposed to do with the body?" Anya, ever the practical, asked as she eyed the large carcass in the middle of the backyard.
Xander hefted his axe over his shoulder and grinned at us. "I call dibs on the drumsticks!"
"Stupid git," Spike grumbled. He put his arm around my waist and started to lead me inside behind Buffy and Dawnie.
"What? We aren't going to eat it? All of that mouthwatering dark meat is going to go to waste?" Xander hurried in after us, tugging Anya along behind him. Giles followed at a more sedate pace.
Buffy had out the phone book and was flipping through it. She picked up a phone and dialed.
"Hello? Is this Frank's Pizza? Are you delivering today? Great..."
Well, you know how it is here in Sunnydale. Just a typical Hellmouth Holiday.
The End