Feo de Joie

Title: Feu de Joie

Author: his_luv_pet

Series: BtVS

Part: 1 - Rainy Days & Mondays

Rating: NC-17

Codes: S/B & some other fun stuff

Summary: BAPS challenge for a Happy Christmas fic -

his_luv_pet style!

Spoilers: Up to Wrecked

Disclaimer: I've got a wine cellar for any lawyers

that stop by.

Feedback: Tell me -- his_luv_pet@yahoo.com

Website: http://www.geocities.com/his_luv_pet

Posting: Let me know...then sure!

A/N: This is a response to a BAPS challenge by

Stephanie. **See end of story for the list of

requirements. Happy Christmas to All and Peace Be With

You.

***

The rain fell. It was gonna be a wet Christmas.

Wonderful. The fact that he, Vampire. Hello., was

even thinking about that holiday, let alone going on a

shopping trip, didn't even cross his mind. He stomped

his way through the tunnels under Sunnydale, slogging

through the puddles that seeped from the walls. It

had been raining for 3 weeks 6 days straight, ever

since...

Oh, not gonna think about it, mate, not gonna do that

again. Shit. He thought about it. That night. That

wondrous, whacked, and wrecked night. It may have

been a bloody revelation, but he still was sleeping

alone and getting damned tired of it. Lost in

speculation, again, of what had gone wrong with the

morning after, he failed to turn left and kept going

straight. He came around a corner and slammed

straight into Buffy.

"Spike!" she yelped, surprised. Then, "They're right

behind me."

"How many?" he shot back, looking back in the

direction she came.

"Four, five, I don't know," she panted, grabbing him

by his coat and pulling him along.

"Big...grey.....with really skanky orange hair. "

"Like really bad dreads?" Spike asked as they jogged

quickly down a side tunnel, splashing through

ankle-deep water.

"Yeah," she looked at him as they continued down the

narrow dank tunnel. "Know what they are? And, did I

mention they were totally pissed off?"

"Saevio demons," he moved even faster. "They can

track well. What did you do to piss them off,

Slayer," he queried in a slightly anxious voice.

"Walked into their group bonding session a few tunnels

back," she panted slightly as they made their way up a

steep incline.

Spike stopped suddenly and his arms shot out to grab

her. "Tell me exactly what you saw," he said in an

intense voice.

Buffy looked very uncomfortable, almost winced, then

said, "What does it matter? They obviously didn't

like the fact that I was there, and they came at me.

I tried to fight them, but there were too many of them

and they're really strong."

"Tell me what happened," he insisted, his voice

raising.

"All right, all ready," her tone becoming slightly

petulant, which signaled to Spike that she was about

to have to say something that made her really

uncomfortable. "I think they were, uh, you

know...getting it on? In a really, really gross, not

nice, demon-sex sort of way. Ick," she finished, her

face twisted in a grimace at the memory. Definitely

something that she did not want imaged onto her brain.

"You interrupted a Saevio demon mating ceremony,"

Spike sounded incredulous.

"Yeah, so what's the big deal. It's not like I was

asking to participate," she pouted. "I just was in

the wrong place at the wrong time."

Spike looked at her, the gloom of the tunnel produced

shadows over his face, but his gleaming blue eyes were

clearly visible and they were glaring at her. She

felt a pang inside of her. She didn't like that

glare; it was so different from the clear, friendly,

loving look she had gotten used to since she got back.

Liked so much that she been in danger of becoming

dependent on those supportative, almost worshipful

looks. No looks for Buffy since That Night. She felt

adrift looking at the glare. Unconsciously, she moved

toward him, staring into his eyes.

"Oh, it's a big deal, Buffy," Spike replied, his gaze

hardening even more. "They don't give up. They'll

have got your scent, and they'll be after you."

"Why after me?" she asked, totally at a loss. "I

didn't do anything."

"You interrupted them. They're very private folks,"

Spike said as if speaking to a small child. "I don't

suppose you bothered to apologize to them?"

"Apologize," her voice rose. "I started kicking their

asses before they could get me. What? Did you want

me to say, 'Sorry, badly color-coordinated demons.

I'm soooo sorry to interrupt your make-out session.'"

"Mating ceremony, pet," Spike said in a voice that was

eerily reminiscent of Giles. "You interrupted their

mating ceremony...their very private, very intimate,

very not for humans ceremony. Then, you attacked

them. What are they supposed to think?"

Buffy looked at Spike, suddenly getting a feeling that

she'd missed something. "You mean they weren't trying

to hurt me, don't you," she finished quietly, looking

down at her feet.

"Well, now they are," he shot back at her, his voice

slightly disgusted. She looked up at him, wounded.

"You just can't wrap you head around the idea that

there are some demons that aren't bad, can you?

Saevio demons are vegetarians, eat mostly mushrooms.

They live underground and they usually don't bother

anyone or anything. Unless..."

"Unless someone really stupid bothers them during a

wedding," Buffy finished with a sigh. Spike nodded

his head in that tilting style that took her breath

away.

He listened carefully and said, "I don't hear them any

more. I think it's safe to go back."

"Not that way," Buffy shook her head. "Where does

this tunnel lead?" she pointed down the dark tunnel.

"Haven't a clue, luv" he said pulling out a cigarette

and lighting up.

"What do you mean? I thought you knew all these

tunnels," Buffy was incredulous.

"I know a lot of 'em, but this part of town I

generally stay away from. Too many people, not enough

shaded entrances to the tunnels," he said, taking a

drag.

"I'm not going back and risk running into them again,"

Buffy insisted. "Let's go down here and see if we can

find an access hatch to get back to the surface."

"What do you mean 'we', Slayer?" Spike growled. "I

don't recall that we had an engagement today."

Buffy made an exasperated sound. "And, you're so

busy? What's on your agenda today?" she snarked,

stung that he didn't want to spend time with her.

"Happens I have a bit of Christmas shopping to do,"

he replied serenely.

"You. Christmas shopping," her voice flat with

disbelief. "More like Christmas nicking."

"Well, that's my concern, innit?" he shot back at her,

turning to go. His heart was going to break right

there; he could feel it being squeezed by the

knowledge that he'd disappointed her again somehow

without even doing anything. Happened that he *had*

money to shop with. He'd been working as a bouncer

for one of the less than pristine clubs down by the

waterfront on nights when he hadn't been patrolling.

Good money for a few hours work and no tax

withholding.

"Wait," Buffy called to him. He slowly turned around.

"You're really going Christmas shopping?"

"Why else would I be up at 10:00 o'clock of a

morning?" his voice held the tone of rapidly

disappearing patience. Something occurred to him.

"Just what the bloody hell are you doing down in the

tunnels, Slayer?" he quirked his mouth. "This place

is only for us things, you know. Ought to know better

to keep your human self out of here." He turned and

started walking away, tense, just pleading with a

higher being that he wasn't sure gave a damn about him

that she'd stop him from going.

Buffy made a growling sound, then ran after Spike.

Catching him by his shoulder, she pulled him around to

face her. "What did you mean by that?" she yelled

into his face.

"Short term memory gone along with everything else,

pet?" Spike hurled back at her. "Your lovely

endearment for me, Slayer. If I recall correctly, I

am an 'evil disgusting thing'." He turned back to

leave, this time not so sure he wanted her to stop him

the pain was so intense.

"No," Buffy said quietly.

Spike stopped, but didn't turn around. "No, what,

Slayer?"

"No, you're not," she continued in a very low, husky

voice, looking at the ground.

"I'm not what, Buffy?" he turned around and faced her,

his voice hard. He waited, but she said nothing

more. "Figures," he shook his head and turned away

again.

"You're not a monster," she finally got out, looking

up.

Spike stopped and tried to collect himself. He took a

very deep breath and turned back one more time. "You

don't say that like you mean it, pet. So, I'm

thinking that you don't. What is it that you want

from me now?" He shook his head. "You know, you can

just ask me for something. You don't have to say

things you don't mean. I'll do what you want me to do

-- you know that," he finished matter of factly.

"You really think that's all I want from you....to use

you?" she looked at him, really shocked. God, what

did he think of her? Why did she care, because she

*did* care.

"You've been doing that since you've gotten back,

luv," Spike replied. "Not that I mind, but you wanted

to know, so I'm telling you."

"So, you're saying I call you a thing, use you, walk

away after kissing you and blame it on you?" Buffy

asked, her voice quivering with tension.

His eyebrows raised and he said, "Well, that about

covers it, yeah. Except, I never mentioned the

kissing and you left out the great sex part. Kinda

figured you would anyway," he snarked. "'Cause I

figure that somewhere in that convoluted mind of

yours, you've convinced yourself that night in that

house never happened."

Buffy stepped up to him and said, "I know it happened.

What I want to know is, why did it happen?"

"You already know that, Buffy," he replied softly,

looking intently into her eyes. "I love you."

"So, you tell me I came back 'wrong' and then pick a

fight with me, all because you *love* me," she

suddenly yelled.

"Yes!" he roared back at her. "'Cause you bloody well

know that you haven't been acting like your usual self

since you got back. The damn chip doesn't work on

you, you walk around like you're Ice Queen Buffy, you

sleepwalk through your Slaying duties, and you expect

everyone to do everything for you because you were

dead and now you aren't. Because 'it's too hard'.

Somebody had to do something to get you outta this

funk you're in. And, may I remind you, YOU KISSED ME

FIRST!"

She couldn't speak. She had never seen him like this.

He was angry -- at *her*. He'd tried to kill her,

he'd told her he loved her, he'd been torqued at her

for little things, but he'd never been blisteringly

angry with her, not since he'd told her he loved her.

"You don't have to deal with it, Spike," she replied

coldly. "You can just leave." She was freezing

again; she could feel the ice slipping over her body,

starting at her heart.

"That's what this is all about, innit?" he snarled at

her, leaning close to her face. "You fucking well

think I'm gonna pull an Angel or a Riley and leave

because it's gotten messy." He suddenly pulled her to

him, plastering her body up against his. "You listen

up, Buffy. I'm. Not. Going. Anywhere. I'm here, I

love you, and what's more, I'm good for you. Deal

with it."

"Good for me?" she shot back panting, feeling his body

against her, his erection pushing out at her, her body

weeping for him instantly. Heat, wonderful,

confounding, gloriously warming heat. "How can *you*

be good for me? You're a vampire, a soulless vampire.

I'm supposed to be killing you, not falling in love

with you."

Both of them stopped their unconscious undulating

movements then and stared at each other, still locked

in a close embrace. She had said it; there was no

taking it back Spike's mind screamed at him. You said

it, you weren't supposed to say it out loud Buffy

yelled at herself.

Spike spoke again, this time in the voice he had used

a lot with her when she had first come back from the

dead. "I'm good for you Buffy because I don't leave.

I want you to be who you are, not what I think you

should be. I can't even imagine you being anything

other than you. I may be a soulless vampire, but I

know what's right and wrong. At least I do now. I've

had a long enforced contemplation of the ethics of

vampirism, you know," he gestured to his chip. "You

may not believe me, but I haven't really wanted to

hurt anyone in a long time." He paused, thinking back

to an incident that he wasn't proud of. Looking at

her intently, he continued, "I won't say I haven't

tested the limits of this bloody chip, 'cause I have.

And in the beginning, I wanted nothing more than to

have the thing out. But, it's not the same now. I've

changed. I know I've said that before, and you didn't

believe me then, and I guess I don't expect you to

believe me now. But, it's true. I'm not who I was.

I still don't know who I am, but I haven't been who I

was for a long time," he finished in a voice that

echoed confusion and vulnerability.

Buffy raised one hand to his face and stroked a tear

that was making its way down his cheek. "I believe

you. I guess I've known for a long time that you've

changed. I don't know who you are, either, except the

person who's held me together for last few months. I

trust you. I know you'll never hurt *me*. I know

you'd *never* hurt Dawn, but how can I know you'll

never hurt anyone else?"

"You know why," he replied, his eyes indicating the

chip.

"That chip won't be there forever, Spike," she said.

"It doesn't work on me now. What happens when it

stops working on other people. Can you say you won't

ever hurt them? Can you?" her voice was anguished.

"Luv, I can't guarantee you anything except that I

love you and Dawn," he answered her truthfully. "And,

in some strange way, maybe a few of your bleedin'

Scoobies. Everything else, I just don't know. Maybe

in time, it could be different, but I can't say right

now."

Buffy felt her heart lighten at his speech; he was

being completely honest with her.

"What?" he finally said in an annoyed voice as she

continued to just stare at him. "Aren't you going to

say something?"

"Kiss me," she replied simply.

"Kiss you," Spike was nonplussed.

"Mm-huh," she nodded with a Cheshire smile.

"I just poured my heart out to you about my conflicted

ethics and sense of self, which by the way, you

questioned in the first place, and your response is

'Kiss me'?"

"That would be a yes," still smiling widely.

"Bloody hell," he muttered and kissed her.

It was some kiss, she registered after a while. The

first one he had initiated. They were currently

trying to meld their bodies while standing, and

although they'd had particular luck at this before,

there were no convenient walls around. The dankness

of the tunnel managed to put a damper on even their

passion.

"Uh," Spike swallowed and closed his eyes to try to

gain some control. "I don't believe I'm saying this,

but I don't think this is the right location for this,

luv."

Buffy laughed, tightening her legs around his waist

and hugging him harder around the neck. "Don't care."

"I'm sodding well standing in three inches of cold

water, luv," he replied with a grin. "You'd care."

His expression became a little more somber and he

said, "Do you really trust me, Buffy?"

Buffy could tell this question, spoken so softly,

almost indifferently, was a very important question to

Spike. She slid her hands around so they cradled his

face, and he automatically shifted his arms so she

could slide back a bit to look him directly in the

eyes. "I trust you," she said simply.

"That's good, then," he looked as though he were

afraid to be happy about it, but wanted to celebrate

her declaration all the same. The silence descended

again.

Buffy reached down inside herself, the self that was

still trying very hard to understand what happened to

her and why she felt the way she did. She tried to

bring up the part of her that wasn't afraid. That was

tricky, because mostly, that part was the Slayer. The

Slayer knew Spike was a vampire, and usually insisted

that she should be staking him, not kissing him, not

loving him. But, I do love him, she told herself. I

need to tell him. She was so torn; she couldn't find

the strength to get the last part out. The Slayer

failed her -- told her that Buffy had to be the one to

tell Spike, not angry any more about the love, but

resigned to it as being a fact. Still, she hesitated.

She looked at Spike, imploring him to help her.

Spike sighed internally. He could see that she was

asking him to help her again. She couldn't say what

she wanted to say directly. He knew what she wanted

to talk about; he just didn't know if he wanted to

hear what she had to say. She often said things she

didn't mean, or meant them in a way that was different

from what she said. He had gotten pretty good at

Buffy-speak over the years, but damned if he didn't

want, just once, for her to be the one to go first and

mean it.

"I'm not going to ask, Buffy," he finally said. "You

have to be the one who goes first this time." He felt

a sense of panic descending. He knew she trusted him,

wanted him, needed him, but could she love him? Could

she admit to it? The admission of a few minutes ago

had been forced by her anger and the circumstances.

He wanted her to be calm and thinking about it this

time. He wanted it to *count*.

Buffy looked into he eyes, completely tongue-tied,

panicked at the thought of putting her heart in his

care. Letting herself be open to the pain. The pain

that brought the fire, something whispered to her.

You wanted the fire back. You wanted this. You knew

that he could bring it back to you. The voice sounded

a lot like her Slayer voice. The fire burns; it

transforms the pain into love. The love is there.

Not speaking of it doesn't make it go away. It still

burns, and it can burn you if you don't let it out.

She had to try.

She slid her hands from his face to the tops of his

shoulders, digging her fingers into the leather that

clad them. Letting her slide down his body, but still

hugging her close, Spike hitched in a breath. She was

really going to say something.

"I'm not word-girl, so you need to listen up, because

I'm pretty sure you're not going to hear this again."

She paused, then continued, her voice a little

halting, "You're not who you were, that's true." She

paused, bit her lip, then continued, "You're so much

more than I ever thought you were. I never let myself

think about it. You have something, a spirit or

heart, I don't know how to say it, that's in you that

I'm amazed by. You never give up. You get beat down,

but you get back up -- always. I don't know how you

do that." Her voice had steadied. She felt the

tightness inside her releasing with each word she

pronounced. "I still haven't figured out how this

happened, but I can't say that it didn't, because it

did. You're not who you were, and neither am I.

We've both changed so much since we met. I don't know

why I never let myself think that you couldn't change,

when I had it all in front of me. You've never lied

to me, not when it counted, You've told me like it

is, even when I didn't want to hear it. I never let

myself believe that it was real, even though I knew it

was."

Spike looked at her in wonder. Her words were flowing

strong and true and they were everything he ever

wanted to hear from her. He was afraid it was a dream.

"I don't know who you are, but I know what you are,"

Buffy continued. "It matters. I can't just file it

away and say it doesn't make a difference. But, I can

tell you that what you've done for Dawn, for me, for

the others -- that's real, too. I can't forget those

people you killed. I won't. But, I can't forget the

people and the demons I've killed. I don't know if

there's a difference anymore. I know I have to kill

the vampires because they'll kill humans. I know I

have to kill the demons because they'll kill me or my

friends. It's all mixed up, and I think I understand

a little of how you feel," she smiled sadly at him.

"I never questioned anything I was told about what was

good and what was evil. I just had a little list, and

if you were on the E side, well, I staked you. There

wasn't a column for Sort of Good or Not So Bad. I

think maybe I'm going to have to add them." She

pulled in a deep breath, looked up as if for

inspiration, then said, "After all this, I still

haven't got to what I really need to say to you."

Spike touched her arm and gently stroked it, "You

don't need to say anything else, luv, if you don't

want to." She had already given him so much.

"I want to," she said, uncaring about the tears

running down her cheeks. "I love you," she said

fiercely. "I don't care if it doesn't make any sense.

I'm tired of trying to figure it out. So that's the

way that it is. Deal with it," she finished in a

strident voice, then spoiled it by sniffing.

"Bravo, luv," Spike said softly, and stroked away the

tears. She gave a shuddering laugh, then buried her

face in his shoulder. His arms tightened about her,

and they stood there for a long time.

"So, you gonna tell me why you're in the tunnels in

the first place, pet?" he said in a lightly teasing

voice.

She pulled back a bit, wobbled a smile at him, and

decided to tell him the truth. "I was going to se

you," she said softly.

"By way of the tunnels?" he replied. "Why?" She was

going to see him, she was going to see him, he

mentally crowed. She was going to see him, and she

was coming to him *first*.

"Hello, raining outside?" she shot back. "I didn't

want to get washed away, so I used the tunnel entrance

near the house. I got kinda lost, met those charming

demons, started running, and that's when you ran into

me."

"Only you, Slayer," Spike chuckled. She grinned back

at him.

End Part 1

Title: Feu de Joie

Author: his_luv_pet

Series: BtVS

Part: 2 - Just Did Me Some Talkin'

Rating: NC-17

Codes: S/B & some other fun stuff

Summary: BAPS challenge for a Happy Christmas fic -

his_luv_pet style!

Spoilers: Up to Wrecked

Disclaimer: I've got a wine cellar for any lawyers

that stop by.

Feedback: Tell me -- his_luv_pet@yahoo.com

Website: http://www.geocities.com/his_luv_pet

Posting: Let me know...then sure!

***

"So, as lovely as this tunnel is," Buffy sniffed and

wrinkled her nose. "Can we get out of here?"

"Lead the way, pet," Spike gestured with one hand.

"Uh, which way," she asked.

"Pick one," he replied, having a vague idea where they

were, but nothing specific.

"OK," she said finally. "This way," and headed

further into the current tunnel they were in.

A few minutes later, they came to a ladder. Climbing

up, they found a trapdoor. Buffy pushed up and opened

it slowly. It was dark, wherever the trapdoor led.

She didn't hear anything, so she pulled herself up and

over onto the floor. Spike followed her. Looking

around, it appeared to be a cellar of some sort.

There were boxes piled about and it smelled musty and

unused. There were some bottles on the shelf. She let

the door close back down on the tunnel.

"There's the door," Spike pointed out, and they

crossed over to it. He tugged on the handle, but it

wouldn't open. "It's stuck," he announced. "Pretty

heavy door, too."

Buffy tried it, but she couldn't get it open either.

After some ineffectual pounding, they turned to go

back to the trapdoor. However, when they tried to

lift it, they found it didn't have a handle.

Spike knelt down and ran his hands along the door.

"Metal," he announced. "No handle, no slot, and no

external hinges."

"That's just great," Buffy grumped. "I'm wet,

freezing, and stuck in a cellar God knows where on

Christmas Eve." She pulled off her wet jacket,

wrinkling her nose at the soaked leather.

"Could be worse," Spike purred at her. "You could be

alone." He found a light switch on the wall and

turned it on. A single low-watt bare light bulb dimly

lit the room.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," she

sniffed. Then, as Spike came over and nuzzled her

neck from behind, she made a sound. It was a nice

sound; it was a nice feeling.

He continued to kiss her neck, running his tongue back

and forth over her most sensitive spot that he'd

zeroed in on immediately. Her hands came back to hold

his head and she arched her back to give him better

access.

"That's it, luv," he crooned to her, nipping up the

cord of her neck to her ear, taking the lobe between

his teeth and worrying it, gently huffing into her

ear. His hands were running up and down her arms, to

around her waist, to her breasts, and back again in

slow, easy strokes. All the time in the world. She

could barely stand.

She turned in his embrace and they kissed, again slow

and easy. This time it wasn't frantic, as if they

feared they would be stopped before they could finish.

This was like the last time in the demolished

building. The time that they allowed themselves the

luxury of doing what they wanted, as long as they

wanted to. The time that had exhausted them so, they

had fallen asleep totally oblivious to the rubble

around them, Spike pausing only to tug his duster over

the two of them as dipped into slumber.

She felt him pulling up her sweater and disengaged

from his mouth long enough for him to tug it off of

her. She registered him dropping his duster on the

floor. Her bra disappeared next, but she was

concentrating on undoing the buttons on his shirt. He

was wearing a blue shirt today. Dark blue, but

something different all right. The man was a rebel,

she chuckled to herself as she finally managed the

last buttons and dragged it off of him to expose his

beautiful chest to her hands.

Her skin was soft and warm, despite the chill she had

received earlier in the tunnels. He breathed in her

scent, a combination of perfume, sweat, and arousal

that made his head swim. His mouth descended onto her

breasts and he attended to them with diligence. Her

hands moved through his hair, dislodging it into its

natural curled state. Woman could never leave his

hair alone. He started in on her trousers, working

their catch and sliding them down her hips. Ah, she

always wore such hot underwear. He really, really

liked the modern female's knickers -- all frills,

lace, and no content to speak of. He smiled as he

slicked them down her body, taking care to tuck them

in his pocket. This pair, he was keeping. Buffy

looked at him, as if to put him on notice she'd seen

what he was doing. She dropped down and picked up her

bra and handed it to him with a smoldering look. He

put that in his pocket, but lost interest as she began

undoing his pants.

"Hold up, luv," he panted as he undid his boots and

she stepped out of hers. He pulled off his pants and

they stood, looking at each other. The moment stopped

as they mutually appreciated. Spike's head tilted to

one side as he gazed at his love. "You are so

beautiful," he finally said. "Not very original, but

then I never was."

"I don't care," Buffy replied. "Sounds great to me.

You are, too," she continued never taking her eyes off

his face. "Beautiful, I mean." She reached up and

stroked his hair back from his forehead where it had

tumbled down. "So beautiful, it makes my heart ache,"

she whispered, "and I love you." He couldn't speak -

there was nothing he could say to that. His heart was

completely full.

They moved together and began kissing in earnest.

Long, messy, wet, and grinding kisses. Short, light,

and sweet kisses. All the kisses in between. After a

while they sank to the floor, haphazardly pulling out

his duster as a sort of blanket. He nudged her legs

apart and entered her in one long stroke, causing them

both to hiss in breaths. It was as good as they

remember, better, because this was now. And now they

moved, familiar with what each other wanted, needed.

It wasn't soft and fuzzy; it was passionate and heady.

Not rushed, because they had time, but urgent because

of they had a great need. She made a sound and pushed

at his shoulders, and he willingly locked his legs

around hers and rolled onto his back. She never

paused in her movements and they rocked against each

other for a long time.

***

Later, they sat together, Buffy in front of Spike, his

arms locked around her. They'd gotten dressed again,

their clothing semi-damp, but better than nothing.

"What do we do now?" Buffy said, bored by the

inactivity, but still enjoying her position.

"Well, not much we can do, 'cept a bit of snogging,

luv," Spike replied. "At least, not until someone

runs out of booze."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, turning around

to look at him.

He indicated the shelves of the cellar. "Those look

like bottles of wine and that's some kind of liquor,"

he noted.

"Well, you'd be the expert on those matters," she said

dryly. He grinned at her and nuzzled her hair with

his face. She giggled, and they were just getting

into it when the door of the cellar opened.

"What the..." the older man began.

"Oh, thank God you found us," Spike effused. "We've

been stuck in hear for at least 20 minutes. We

couldn't get the door open. Right dear?" he nudged

Buffy, who had frozen like a deer in a set of

headlights.

"Yes, that's right," Buffy parroted.

"Well, Agnes said she told Wally to get some more

chardonnay," the man ventured.

"Well, Wally had something he had to do, so I told him

that we'd go get it, then we got stuck, and well, you

know..." Spike smiled winsomely at the man. "We'd

better get back, Wally will be missing us," he

continued.

"Yeah, well, that's OK then," the man relented and

crossed to the shelf with the wine bottles.

As they made their way out of the cellar, Buffy hissed

at Spike, "Why did that guy let us go? And who is

this Wally? And why is that guy wearing that weird

hat?"

"It shows his outfit," he explained, amazed that of

all places in Sunnydale, they'd ended up at the V.F.W.

Hall. "What regiment or platoon, or whatever."

"Military?" she said suspiciously. "But, aren't they

kinda old?"

"This is the V.F.W. Hall," he explained. "They fought

in foreign wars. Old soldiers and all that."

"How do you know all this?" she suddenly wondered.

"I sorta met one of these blokes one night in the

cemetery near my crypt. He was sending off one of his

buddies and was a few sheets to the wind. Managed to

get him home before something took a bite out of him.

Bugger wouldn't shut up, told me more about the V.F.W.

than I ever wanted to know."

She looked at him thoughtfully.

"Let's see if we can find another way out of here,"

Spike began, when someone called out to him.

"Spike! I see you made it to the party. I thought

you'd forgotten," a tall, spare man with white hair

and friendly eyes came up to them.

"Hello, Wally," Spike was resigned. No good deed goes

unpunished, me lad. "We got caught in the rain."

"Terrible weather," Wally agreed. He held out his

hand and Buffy offered hers in bemusement. " Lt. Col.

Wally Reynolds, Army Air Corp, Retired, at your

service, Ma'am," he gallantly turned her hand and

kissed the back of it.

"Uh, Buffy Summers, unemployed," she replied,

completely flustered.

"We'd thought we would just stop in for minute,

Wally," Spike explained. "Got a bit of Christmas

shopping to do."

"Yes, we normally have these little get togethers in

the afternoon so we can go home and have family

celebrations," Wally glanced around and sighed.

"Getting to be fewer and fewer of us every year." He

looked over at Spike and said, "So, young man. This

your lady friend you were talking about the other

night?"

Spike looked and felt extremely uncomfortable as Buffy

looked at him steadily. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Very nice," Wally grinned. "Don't worry, miss. He

didn't say anything you need to box his ears for. I

just like to give him a bad time."

Buffy just looked at Wally, then smiled. He seemed

like a nice old man.

"Spike, where are your manners? Go get the lady some

eggnog," Wally chided him.

"Uh, right, then," he replied. Buffy just kept

looking from Wally to him and back to Wally again.

Feeling like he was going to meet his doom, he made

his way to the table with the punchbowl. As he passed

the people gathered in front of the table and secured

a cup, he wondered what the hell he was doing here.

Wally was probably talking Buffy's ear off, just

nattering on about what happened that night a week

ago. He didn't do anything special, just kept the old

geezer from being vampire bait. So, he'd listened to

him ramble on a bit drunkenly about his buddy Kip.

Kip had been somebody special - his wingman.

Apparently, this was a bonding that was sacred.

Shoveling him into a taxi hadn't been a problem, and

he remembered agreeing to stop in at the V.F.W.'s

Christmas party next week. Anything to get the guy to

shut up and go home. Anyway, it'd been interesting to

hear him talk about being in England during the war.

Crazy time that.

Arriving back, with an ironic flourish, he presented

Buffy with a cup of eggnog with whipped cream. She

took it, eyebrows raised, and sipped it, bemused by

the whole surreal situation.

"I was just telling Miss Summers here how we met,"

Wally said. His voice turned sad, "I was saying

goodbye to a friend of mine, and I'm afraid I wasn't

too coherent that night. Your gentleman friend took

good care of me," he smiled a little and clasped him

on the shoulder. "Nice to meet a young man who has

time for the older generation," he continued.

"Oh, Spike has a great perspective on things that are

older," Buffy joined the conversation at last. She

was having hard time keeping a straight face. Spike

just looked like he'd rather be anywhere, even

daylight. She sipped her eggnog and took it all in.

"Uh, Wally, it's been lovely, but I think we'd best be

going now, hmm, luv," Spike looked directly at Buffy.

"We don't want to get caught in the long lines at the

store."

"Oh, you can't go just yet," Wally said in surprise.

"Come over here and see the photos. I want you to see

Kip and I when we were just kids," Wally's voice grew

wistful.

Buffy watched as the irritation faded from Spike's

expression. "Sure, Wally. I'd like to see that," he

walked with the older man over to a table. Turning

his head, he indicated for Buffy to follow them, and

she did.

Wally showed them photos and journals, even old

uniforms that were on display on the table and on the

walls. They had walked around the room and came to

the entrance. Wally smiled and said, "Thanks so much,

you two, for putting up with an old man's ramblings."

"It was fun," Buffy said smiling. "Kinda military,

but fun."

"Thank you," Spike said simply. Wally held out his

hand and Spike looked at him for a moment, then

extended his own out and they shook hands. Spike

couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. It

had been a long time ago, and it felt good.

"Well, one last thing, and then I'll let you two get

to wherever you're getting to," Wally said, a pleased

smile on his face.

"What?" Spike said, suddenly feeling trapped again.

"Look up, children," Wally chuckled. "I'm assuming

you know what that is."

"Uh, a weed," Buffy said. She hastened to add, "But

tied up in a nice red festivey ribbon thing, so it's

holiday type weed, right?"

"Mistletoe," Spike's voice acknowledged defeat. Wally

had bested him. He nodded a victory salute to him and

turned to Buffy. "Come on, pet. It's a traditional."

"What's traditional?" she asked as he pulled her into

his arms.

"This," Spike said then kissed her a good one in front

of Wally, the Cookie Committee, and everybody.

Clapping and a few cheers erupted spontaneously. When

they pulled apart, Buffy was blushing and Spike had a

slight smirk on his face.

Wally laughed and waved them on their way out the

door. Nice kids.

Standing under the portico of the V.F.W. Hall, they

looked out. The rain was still pouring down, if

anything, it had gotten even darker. The very air

seemed to be turning grey.

"Just where are we?" Buffy looked around.

"South end of town, just off Main Street," Spike

replied. He looked up at the sky. Worse than London

this.

"How are we going to get downtown?" she asked. "No

convenient awnings."

He felt really happy all of a sudden. She had just

assumed that they were going together and she was

asking him how they were going to work out his

'difficulty' in traveling in daylight hours. "Well,

I..." he stopped as Wally appeared in the doorway

carrying a large golf umbrella.

"Thought you could use this," he smiled at the couple

and handed the umbrella to Spike. "It was Kip's, so

you can keep it. He's not going to need it to try to

break 80 any more, and I'm sure he'd like for you to

have it." He waved off their thanks and disappeared

back into the hall.

"Let's go, then," Spike gestured, opening up the

umbrella and gesturing toward the sidewalk.

"Out there?" Buffy was skeptical.

"Indirect sunlight, should be all right, long's I stay

under the umbrella," he replied. She shrugged and

they made their way toward downtown.

***

"Magic Box, how may I help you?" Anya's voice was

cheerful. "No, I'm sorry, we're all out of mugwort.

Yes, I'm expecting some next week. Shall I hold it

for you? All right, thanks for thinking Magic Box for

all your Craft needs," she hung up the phone and made

a note of the order on her pad. Humming along with

the music, she made her way around the counter to

start reworking her display merchandise for the New

Year's theme she had come up with. This was fun,

money was fun, the music was fun. She was really

getting into it, and started humming as she busted a

move.

"La, la, la, hey Macarena!," she danced her way to the

long shelf and started placing out merchandise. The

bell over the door rang and Buffy and Spike walked in.

"Hi," she smiled at them. Then, she said, "Spike,

it's daytime, why aren't you on fire?"

"Too wet out," Spike deadpanned.

"Oh," Anya replied blankly. "Well, what can I help

you with? Need to do some last minute gift shopping?"

she added hopefully.

"No," Buffy said, holding up her bags. "Been there

and done it already. This is the last of mine, but

thanks anyway. We just wanted to go someplace out of

the rain until it's time to meet Dawn."

"Actually," Spike said. "I need to get something.

You're it holding for me, I believe."

Anya thought for a moment, "Oh, that! I have it in

the back. I can't believe you're going to give a..."

"Just be a luv and go get it, Anya, OK?" he

interrupted, gently turning her and giving her a light

push toward the back room.

"All right, I'm going," she grumped back at him.

"Just keep an eye on the cash register while I'm back

there. And," she turned to look at him, "I know

exactly how much money's in there."

"I have every confidence that you do," he replied

gravely. Anya sniffed and went into the back.

"What's with you two?" Buffy said as she sat down at

the research table near the rear of the shop, putting

her bags underneath the table.

"Oh, I asked her to find me something a few weeks ago

and to hold it for Christmas," he answered, sitting

down next to her. "I think she's worried I won't pay

her for it," he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"She would be," Buffy agreed. "So, what is it and are

you gonna pay her for it?"

"Personal business, pet," he chided her. "I didn't

enquire as to what you purchased today 'n how you paid

for it when you went off by yourself, now did I?"

"No," she agreed. "But, I'm nosy."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. You are," he grinned at her.

"But, I'm not telling you what it is. You'll just

have to wait."

"You mean, it's a present for me?" her eyes brightened

up. Presents were of the good.

"You're like a little kid, Slayer," he shook his head

in mock dismay. "An', I'm still not gonna tell you a

thing. You'll just have to wait until tonight, like

everyone else." His heart sang at the exchange they

were having. Still arguing, snarking at one another,

but in a way that made him happy, not angry or

frustrated. Love words between formal mortal enemies;

he was invited to her Christmas party. Unlife was

indeed strange. Buffy sniffed and didn't say another

word, pretending to be looking through a very large

book that was in front of her. Spike looked up and

said, "You know, it's been a while, but that doesn't

sound like any Christmas music I remember." Buffy

continued to pretend to ignore him while he sat there

and grinned at her.

"Here it is," Anya appeared in the doorway holding a

small box.

"Great," Spike got up and walked over to meet her at

the register. Buffy continued to stare unseeing at

her book. She could see money exchange hands, but not

how much it was. She listened hard, but casually.

"So, that deal with Phillipe work out?" Anya said as

she rang up the transaction.

"Yeah, pretty good," Spike replied, pocketing his

change. "A few nights a week, on call, good money.

Thanks," he said looking up at her.

"You're welcome," she replied. Indicating the small

box, "You have any wrapping paper for that?"

Spike wrinkled his brow, "Knew I'd forgot something.

Been a while since I did this Christmas bit, you

know," he added sheepishly.

For some reason, a sheepish vampire with a Christmas

present struck a chord within her, and she did

something she usually never would do. Well, blame it

on the season or something. "I've got some extra

paper in the back and some tape. Why don't you go and

wrap it?"

Spike was surprised, but smiled at her, "Thanks, pet."

And he made his way to the back room.

Anya looked up to see Buffy standing next to her.

"What did you sell him?" she asked.

"A present," Anya replied blandly.

"You can tell me," Buffy assured her pathetically.

"You are not a customer, so my loyalty should remain

with the person who gave me the money," Anya told her

with confidence. "Besides, I figure he's just going

to give it to you, so you're going to find out soon

enough. Xander tells me that the anticipation of the

presents is as good as the opening. I don't happen to

agree, but I'm not the one giving or getting the

present this time, so what do I care?" She smiled at

Buffy.

"Well, can you tell me about this deal with Phillipe?"

Buffy groused.

"Oh, I just told him about a job opportunity down at

Phillipe's by the waterfront. They needed a part-time

bouncer. He was looking for some work. Not exactly a

lot of job opportunities for a vampire, you know.

Thought they'd hit it off. Phillipe's a bit

different, too," Anya noted, marking on some inventory

sheets.

"A job," Buffy was floored. "He's got a *job*."

"Yes," Anya said approvingly. "He's being a

productive member of society. I like that, mostly

because he shops here now, instead of stealing."

"Thanks, Anya," Buffy said softly, looking at her with

a new perspective.

"You're welcome. I hope you'll think of me later at

the Christmas party with a nice gift," she replied.

"You bet," Buffy laughed, which made Anya smile and

was what she was trying to do in the first place.

Spike came out of the back room and raised his

eyebrows at the two by the register. "Having a good

time, ladies?" he inquired in an arch voice.

"Oh, Anya's just giving me the gory details," Buffy

smiled slightly evilly at him. "I know the whole

awful truth," she crossed over to him. Whispering

loudly, she said," You have a job!"

"Bloody hell, Slayer!" he yelped. "Don't say it out

loud. It's bad enough that I'm working for a human,

but if it gets out to the demon community..."

"They'll just think you're strange, and they already

think that, don't they?" Buffy looked at him with

affection. He just looked darkly at her, and she

continued to be amused.

The telephone rang and Anya went to answer it. A few

minutes later she came back to the table where the two

had sat back down. "That was Xander," she explained.

"He has to work until 6:00, so he's going to have meet

us at your house."

"Oh, I thought he had today off?" Buffy said.

"He got called in this morning," Anya happily informed

them. "Double time and a half. A very nice Christmas

present!"

The door jangled again, letting in Dawn, Tara, and

Willow. "Hey," Buffy called as they came in. Dawn

had wanted to go shopping without Buffy, and Tara had

invited her along. Buffy thought they she might be

using Dawn as a buffer between Willow and her. Their

recent return to seeing one another was still very

fragile. Tara still was living in her small studio

apartment downtown, but had been spending more time at

her house. Buffy hoped they could continue to work it

out.

"You get me something nice?" she asked Dawn.

"I'm so not telling. You can't look in my bag,

either," Dawn admonished her. She turned to Tara and

Willow, "She is the worst when it comes to presents.

I swear she opened her birthday present last year and

re-wrapped it." Both Willow and Tara laughed. Buffy

huffed and Spike grinned at Dawn.

"Hey, Nibblet," he called to her.

Dawn came over, smiling at him, so happy that he was

there. Buffy and him must have made up. She felt so

relieved. For a while there, it seemed like Buffy was

going to explode and get all defensive about the least

little thing. And Spike, well, she'd only seen him a

couple of times since the night of the accident. He

had seemed really stressed about something, but would

only say the he was trying to work it out the best

that he could. She knew it had something to do with

Buffy; it always did when he was upset. Well, unless

it was about her. She dropped one arm over his

shoulders and gave him a hug as she passed by. "Hey,

Spike. Merry Christmas."

Spike's expression was carefully blank when he

replied, "Merry Christmas, Dawn." The group looked

at him, then rapidly looked elsewhere, with the

exception of Buffy, who made note of his struggling to

hide his emotions at Dawn's simple acceptance of his

presence there.

"So, where's Xander?" Willow asked taking off her coat

and putting it on the back of her chair and breaking

the silence.

"Had to work overtime," Buffy explained. "Uber-money

making opportunity. He's gonna meet us at the house."

"Cool," Willow replied. "So, we got all the party

fixings and we're all set in the fun and games

department."

"I've got some really good music," Tara said happily.

"A mixture of traditional Christmas music, Celtic

ballads, and some Gregorian chants."

"Sounds great," Buffy assured her, while thinking

'Gregorian chants'?

"Well, I'm going to close the shop early today," Anya

stunningly announced. "No customers in the last two

hours anyway. Might as well go get ready for the

party." She closed the till she had just balanced and

took her bank bag and got her purse from behind the

counter. "Let's go." Eveyone agreed and they got

their stuff together and made their way out the door,

and Anya locked up. As they started out for the

Summer's house, they noticed that it had stopped

raining and the sky had cleared up. They waved as

Anya drove away, and the sun slipped down under the

horizon as they walked toward Revello Drive.

End Part 2