Creative Works
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Part 2)
By Eliz
ealutz(at)hotmail.com
Spoilers: Contains a pretty well-known, extremely general SEASON 4 SPOILER
regarding Angel... BEWARE! Hey - you probably have heard it already... but if
not, you've been warned - don't blame me, 'kay? As for the rest, it's just purely mushy,
very hopeful speculation on my part! ;)
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Sadly, they never were. I just sneak them away
from the big guy every so often for a little fun. And, as usual, I'm quick to suggest
that I treat them a lot better than their *cough* actual owner. ;)
. . .
For Angel, dinner couldn't possibly have lasted any longer. First of all, he was
trapped
at the table with all that garlic... burning his eyes and his throat
unmercifully. By the time
Buffy figured out what was going on and explained to her mother why he was
wheezing
and his eyes were tearing up, he'd drained most of the wine bottle by himself.
It didn't help
the burning, but it did put a new, more mellow, perspective on the evening. He
just
wished it had lasted longer, because he was stone cold sober again when Joyce
bluntly
asked him what his plans for the future were.
When he'd haltingly admitted that he wasn't sure, Joyce had cast a significant
glance at
Buffy, who'd glared rebelliously back at her mother and refused to comment. It
had made
for tense dinner non-conversation... because neither woman spoke for the rest of
the meal,
and he was still too sunk in his garlic-induced misery to start any small-talk
on his own.
The one bright spot had been that Joyce seemed to genuinely enjoy the meal...
and Buffy
had eaten it with an enthusiastic appreciation that had charmed him.
Now, clearing the table while Buffy and Joyce waited for him by the tree, Angel
felt his
feet dragging and his will flagging. At this point, he couldn't imagine what had
ever
possessed him to agree to such a ridiculous idea. Had he willingly subjected
himself to this?
Or had it been Buffy's idea? Now he couldn't remember, but he felt very put-upon
either
way. It just wasn't worth...
Buffy's silvery laugh reached his ears, making him smile spontaneously. The
sound
immediately soothed him, calmed his agitation and brought back to him the reason
he'd
decided to do this at all - Buffy. He wanted her to be happy, and he knew that
her
mother's opinion meant a lot to her. So... the plan had been to win her mother
over with
his breathtaking culinary skills and sparkling personality. He now realized,
listening to
Buffy giggle in the other room, that maybe that hadn't been the wisest - or most
realistic -
course. Perhaps it was time to try a little good, old-fashioned honesty.
. . .
He stood in the arch of the doorway for a long moment, staring at the two women.
Whatever friction his relationship with Buffy might be causing, the two were
obviously
very close nevertheless. They were discussing something quietly on the sofa,
Buffy's feet
drawn up underneath her body as she leaned closer to hear what her mother was
saying.
Joyce might never have noticed him standing there at all - but Buffy looked up
after only
a moment, her whole face brightening at the sight of him. She immediately hopped
up and
crossed the room to his side. He watched her approach, happy at least that she
seemed to
think the evening was going well. He wondered if it were simply her incurable
optimism,
or if she was better at reading her mother's emotions than he was. The latter
was certainly
possible...
"Ooh! Mistletoe," Buffy commented perkily.
Feeling as though fate were toying with him tonight, Angel looked up - only to
see a sprig
of mistletoe hanging directly over his head. He lowered his eyes to observe
Buffy still
making a beeline for him. Trapped. Helpless. Most certainly at her mercy.
An abrupt cough came from across the room just as Buffy cornered him - causing
her to
spring guiltily back, and him to jerk as if he'd been shot. Joyce's voice seemed
absurdly
loud and accusing to his ears. "It's about time for us to be heading back home,
don't you
think, Buffy?" Angel cast a hunted glance at Buffy, and moved away from the
tempting
sprig of Christmas cheer before grabbing her hand gently and leading her over to
her
mother. Joyce was already halfway to the front door. Angel hurried to catch up.
Fetching
her coat from the closet, he courteously helped her into it.
"Well, Angel... this has been a lovely evening," Joyce said.
He searched her tone for any sign of sarcasm, and was surprised to find none.
She almost
sounded sincere. Almost. "Actually, Mrs. Summers... there's something I wanted
to give
you... a Christmas present of sorts." He ignored Buffy's wide-eyed, inquiring
gaze, instead
focusing fully on her mother's face, trying desperately to convey his sincerity
in this
moment. "I know you don't think much of me," he started softly, fighting not to
drop his
gaze. Seeing that she was about to politely protest, he shook his head and
continued.
"No... I wouldn't either, if I were in your place. But... that aside, I want you
to know that
I live my life - such as it is - to protect your daughter from harm. I want her
to be the
oldest, happiest Slayer ever... and you may not believe that of me now, but just
please...
please give me a chance to prove it?" He'd been turning this over in his head
for weeks,
and he'd wanted to finish his pledge firmly, but instead he found himself
entreating her to
trust his words.
She surprised him again by staring straight into his eyes and nodding. "I
believe you'll try,
Angel. I may not seem like the most open-minded and understanding of mothers -"
Buffy
made a small sound of protest, "- but I believe you have my daughter's best
interests at
heart." She paused, not seeming to know what else to say... but for Angel it was
enough.
He felt relief pour over him as a balm that soothed away all the uncomfortable,
awkward
moments from earlier in the evening.
Joyce finally turned away from him, looking for her daughter. "Buffy?"
Buffy - who had been watching their exchange with rapt attention - blinked, then
closed
her gaping mouth and smiled at her mother. "Do you think I could stay for a
little longer,
Mom? I promise I'll be home in an hour... or two, tops," she wheedled.
"I suppose," Joyce agreed doubtfully. "Just be certain you let me know when you
get
home... I'll be waiting up," she warned Buffy, while staring pointedly at Angel.
"Thanks, Mom... I'll walk you out to the car, okay?" Buffy slipped past Angel to
follow
her mother through the door, both of them disappearing into the night.
. . .
"Well, my mom seemed to really like your present," Buffy sighed softly against
his
shoulder, her eyes fixed on the Christmas tree lights.
Angel finally released some of the tension he'd been under the entire evening
with an
uncharacteristic chuckle. "Thank God for that. I was pretty worried about it."
He tilted his
head to lay his cheek on her shining fall of hair, feeling her snuggle more
fully into his
side, drawing her feet up to burrow them under one of the warm pillows.
"I know," she giggled in response. "Presents?" she suggested hopefully a moment
later.
"Not until morning. We agreed on that," he reminded her patiently. She was
planning on
coming over again on Christmas morning, sans her mother this time, to celebrate
with him
alone. He was greatly looking forward to it. He could almost feel Buffy's eyes
devouring
the wrapped packages under the tree... trying to determine by shape alone what
they held.
He grinned a little, glad he'd taken the time to conspire with Willow on a few
of her gifts.
She pulled slightly away from his side suddenly, turning the full force of a
cute pout on
him. "Please?" she pleaded adorably.
He laughed out loud this time, dragging her back against his side. "No. You can
wait if
I can."
"No... no I can't," she wriggled against his grasp, trying to move into a
position where
she could try the pout again. He resisted firmly, knowing he probably wouldn't
be able to
deny her twice. Trying to distract her, he brought up her mother once more. "I'm
glad
you think tonight went well, Buffy - I wasn't so sure I was going to make it."
She stilled, considering his words. "You did look slightly like you were a
flight-risk a few
times, but I think she's warming up to you. I mean, she let me stay a little
longer tonight
without a fight."
"Just a disapproving glare," Angel pointed out.
"Oh, that wasn't much of one, though. I've gotten much worse, believe me," Buffy
assured
him. "Anyway, I think the turning point was what you said to her."
"I was so relieved she believed me," Angel admitted, pulling a little wrapped
gift out of
his pocket. "I had these as a backup bribe, but..." he lied smoothly.
Buffy snatched the box off his palm before he could even blink, and had the bow
and
paper off in a frenzied blur of movement. She opened the box and froze, staring
at the
diamond earrings within.
"I know, they're not really personal, but I figured, hey - can you go wrong with
diamonds?"
Angel explained to her, before noticing that Buffy's eyes were huge and
glimmering... and
she was almost salivating on the stones. "Uh... Buffy?"
Swallowing quickly, still staring at the earrings, Buffy nodded at his inquiry.
Smiling at his love, Angel wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned close
to her.
"YOU wouldn't happen to be willing to take those off my hands... would you,
sweetheart?"
Buffy made a drooly sound that didn't necessarily resemble an affirmative, but
Angel took
it as such when she clutched the box to herself and finally dragged her eyes off
the
shimmering diamonds to meet his eyes. She saw his grin... then looked down at
the stones
again... then back up to see him wink. "These... are for... me?" she whispered.
"All along, baby... all along."
She immediately abandoned the earrings to kiss him soundly, her slim arms
wrapping
around his neck. "I love you," she murmured shyly into the hollow of his throat
before
moving back a little to gaze up at him with a smile.
"I love you, Buffy," he whispered back, thinking that the diamonds didn't even
compare to
the brilliance and beauty of her eyes.
Grinning slyly at him suddenly, she glanced over his shoulder at the doorway.
"So... you
wanna try out that mistletoe now?"
Finis.
. . .
Page 2 of 2
Season's Greetings! :) Thanks for reading... feedback, as always, is greatly
appreciated. :)
. . .
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