Feo de Joie

Title: Feu de Joie

Author: his_luv_pet

Series: BtVS

Part: 3 - You'll Never Walk Alone

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 BtVS, Lullaby for AtS

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!

***

The houses on Revello Drive were blazing with

Christmas lights. Inside the Summer's residence, an

eclectic selection of music played as they prepared

for the party. Tara and Willow were in the kitchen

organizing munchies. Dawn had tugged Spike into the

living room as soon as they got there, proclaiming

that they were going to decorate. Spike had glared at

her, but when she'd gotten a pouty look on her face,

he'd relented. Sighing, he had gone to help hang

garlands and nonsense like that.

Buffy slipped upstairs for a quick shower, marveling

at how Spike just looked better after their little

cellar tryst, while she looked like she'd been through

the spin cycle of the washer with no fabric softener.

She got dressed in her holiday dress and did her hair

and makeup in record time. Going to her closet, she

pulled out the presents she had there and combined

them with the ones she had purchased that afternoon.

She found the one box that belonged to Spike and set

that next to her pile of gifts. She knew it was for

Dawn, but had no idea what was in it. She thought

hard for a minute, then pulled out another gift and

put it in his pile. He didn't know that he was

supposed to bring a gift for exchanging, and she had

an extra one, so no big deal. She looked up at the

knock on her door.

"Hey, Buffy," Spike stuck his head in the door and

held out the telephone. "It's for you," his voice was

just this side of nasty.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Soul-boy," he said shortly. "Want me to take these

down for you?" he indicated the presents on the bed.

Anything to get out of there while she was talking to

Angel.

"No, wait," she motioned him to sit on the bed and

cleared him a place before putting the phone to her

ear. "Hello, Angel?" She listened for a few minutes,

then said, "Yeah, well, I was kind of surprised by it,

too. No, I'm not going to explain, but I'm very

happy. *We're* very happy." She listened again.

"Wow...I don't know what to say." She listened some

more. "I think so, too. Congratulations." Another

brief period of listening. "You, too," she said

softly. "Merry Christmas. Tell Cordy hi from all of

us, too. Bye." She pushed disconnect and looked

bemused.

"So, Peaches give you a bad time?" Spike growled at

her.

"Not really," she replied absently. "I think he kind

of distracted right now. He has a baby, a son."

"A what?" Spike voice was incredulous.

"A baby," Buffy said softly. "I don't even think I

want to know how, but somehow he hooked up with Darla,

who somehow got resurrected last year, and well, the

result was a baby. A normal, human baby." She looked

up at Spike with tears in her eyes. "So, how come he

gets everything? *Angel* gets a soul, *Angel* gets to

decide to leave for my own good - so *I* can have a

normal life, and now *Angel* gets a baby. It's so

unfair! What's the deal?" she was crying in earnest

now.

"Don't know, pet," he murmured as he took her into his

arms. "I just know sometimes life can be a bitch..."

"Then you fall in love with one," she continued. He

looked at her with amused surprise in his eyes.

"What? *I'm* not spending my first Christmas with you

crying about Angel." She sniffed and wiped her face

with her hands. "I've spent way too much time crying

over him already in my life."

She amazed Spike more every day. "You're a hell of a

woman, Summers," he finally said, gazing at her in

admiration. "Peaches has no appreciation of what he

gave up, the bloody idiot."

"Well, at least your hair doesn't stick straight up,"

she snarked nastily. They grinned in malicious

delight at one another. She stood up and indicated

the presents. "Here's yours, and this one's for the

gift exchange we're doing later," she pointed to the

small box next to Dawn's gift. "It should be OK for

anyone who's coming," she added.

"Thanks, but do you think the Scoobies are gonna want

me to be a part of their gift exchange?" he asked

skeptically.

"You're a part of them, so they'll just have to deal,"

she said firmly. He smiled at a bit at her fierceness,

and helped her carry the gifts downstairs.

Dawn was fiddling with the ornaments on the small tree

in the living room and looked up with Buffy and Spike

came down. "So, how'd it go with Angel?" she asked

nonchalantly.

"It went," Buffy replied shortly, crossing to the tree

to put her gifts under it. She then went into the

kitchen.

Spike knelt down and put the gifts he was carrying

under the tree and stood up next to Dawn.

"So, what happened?" Dawn was way past trying to act

cool. She was nearly dancing in anticipation of his

answer.

"Have to ask your sis, Bitesize," he replied mildly.

"Her business, not mine."

"Now you go all Jerry McGuire on me," she huffed,

shaking him by the shoulders, and he just grinned at

her. She laughed back at him.

The doorbell rang, and Dawn ran to get it. It was

Anya with a casserole dish. "I've made green beans

with French onions," she informed them happily.

Tara appeared in the kitchen door and said, "Hi, Anya.

I'll take that. Where's Xander? I thought he'd be

coming with you."

"He's running late," Anya said sighing tiredly as she

sat down. "I had to wrap the presents, make the

casserole, and load them all in the car myself - all

after having worked a full day. The presents are

still in the car." She brightened a little, "But,

Xander's made a lot of money with overtime today."

"I'm sure that's great," Tara said straight faced.

"I'll get the presents from your car," Spike said,

moving out the door before anyone had time to react.

"Was that Spike being helpful?" Willow said as Buffy

and her came out of the kitchen to hear the last of

the exchange.

"Yeah," Dawn replied to Willow. "He's been known to

be a little helpful on occasion," she continued in a

dry voice.

"Hey, sorry," Willow backed down instantly. "It's

just a little, I dunno, weird, to see him like that so

much. Nice though," she assured Dawn. The air

between them was still not too clear, but neither

really wanted to antagonize each other.

"I better get this into the oven," Tara indicated the

casserole she was holding, and made her way to the

kitchen.

"So, when's Xander gonna get here?" Buffy asked Anya.

Just then, they heard male voices on the front porch,

and the door opened. Spike handed Buffy the box with

presents in it, then held the door for Xander, who was

still in his work clothes, and looked wet, filthy, and

really tired.

"Sorry to be late, Buff," he said ruefully. "I just

couldn't get away until just a little while ago.

Ebenezer Scrooge, aka our client, wanted a full day's

work today to finish a part of the job, and I had two

guys no-show on me." Xander turned to Anya, "Hey hon.

Tell me you brought my clean clothes with you."

"Sure," Anya said brightly. "They're out in the car.

Spike, can you get them?" she smiled winningly at him.

Spike rolled his eyes, and laughed under his breath,

but made his way out the door again. Xander looked

from Anya to Buffy and to the door, shook his head,

and said, "I'm just gonna go with it." Turning back

to Buffy, he asked, "Can I use your shower Buffy?

'Cause I'm thinkin' I'm not smelling of the freshest

right now."

"Go to it," Buffy smiled as she gestured upstairs.

"Hey, does anybody know how do get one of these can

openers to work?" Willow called from the kitchen door.

"I can't get the olives open."

"I can do it," Anya said getting out of her chair. "I

like olives a lot, so I'm a good person to do this,"

as she went to the kitchen.

Spike came in with the small bag of Xander's clothes

and set it by the stairs. Buffy and Dawn were sorting

the presents under the tree. Just then, the doorbell

rang. Spike muttered under his breath about being the

bleedin' doorman and went to open it. There on the

front porch stood an attractive young man, holding a

small present.

"Yes?" Spike inquired fiercely.

"Uh, is Dawn home?" the young man managed to get out.

"And you are?" Spike didn't move a millimetre.

"I'm Michael," he replied, although he didn't sound

too sure of himself. "Dawn said I could stop by for

your party if I had time, so..."

"Dawn!" Spike called over his shoulder, still not

giving him admittance.

"Omigod," Dawn looked at Buffy. She whispered to her

sister, "He came, he came! I didn't think he would!"

"Who?" Buffy looked over at the door, but couldn't see

past Spike.

"Michael," Dawn enthused. "This totally hot, totally

nice guy in my history class. How do I look?"

"You look fine," Buffy assured her dryly. "I think

you better go rescue him from Spike." Dawn looked

horrified and ran to the door.

Spike moved a small distance to one side, still not

letting Michael in, but allowing Dawn to greet her

guest.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Hi," he said back.

They stared almost painfully at one another, until

Spike snorted and stood back, "Come in then."

As Michael crossed the threshold and passed in front

of him, Dawn turned to him and whispered so low that

only a vampire could hear. "Spike, don't scare the

guy to death. I really like him."

"What do you know about him, L'il Bit?" he replied

quietly.

"I know he's nice, smart, good looking, not a vampire,

and he likes me," she listed, her eyes asking for his

approval.

"That should make Buffy happy," he looked at her.

"What about you?" she asked very seriously.

"Me?" he was taken aback.

"You," she nodded.

Spike looked over to where Michael was talking with

Buffy by the tree. He was listening to something she

was saying, then they both laughed. He turned back to

Dawn, who was still looking at him. He realized that

what he said next would influence her greatly. "I

don't know why you think my opinion matters, but if

you want to see him, it's all right with me." He

reached on hand out and stroked down her hair, "But,

just you remember that he should treat you with

respect and courtesy, and if he doesn't..."

"You'll stake him," Dawn finished with a small smile.

"Exactly," Spike said, and got a very fast, fierce hug

from the teenager that made his chest feel constricted

long after she let go and went over to talk with

Michael.

Tara came out of the kitchen with a tray of vegetables

and put them on the coffee table in the living room.

She noticed the bag by the stairs and figured it

belonged to Dawn, who was forever leaving her various

bags around the house. Sighing, she picked it up and

went up the stairs and put it in her room on the bed.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the

bureau, she shook her head. Her hair was messy and

her face flushed from the heat of the oven.

Xander shut off the water, pulled open the curtain,

and was reaching for a towel just as Tara opened the

door to go wash her face. They stared at each other

for a horrified couple of seconds, then Xander yelped

and turned, hiding behind the shower curtain.

Tara couldn't help herself, she burst out laughing.

Xander peeked out from behind the curtain and said,

"Very funny, Tara. You could at least hand me a

towel, now that you've seen me in all my non-glory."

"I'm sorry, Xander," she giggled, handing him the

towel from the rack. "I just, well, the same thing

happened to me once with one of my brothers, and,

Goddess, did he get mad."

"Well, I'm not one of your brothers," he replied,

wrapping the towel around his waist and reappearing

from behind the curtain, stepping out of the shower.

"But, did it ever occur to you to knock?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, serious this time. "It's

just that when I was living her, there were no guys,

and I just didn't think about it."

"Hey, it's OK," Xander started laughing himself. "I'm

darn sure you didn't get a thrill, so no harm, no

foul." He looked around, "I wonder where Anya put my

bag?"

"Black with blue stripes?" Tara asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"I thought it was Dawn's, I put it in her room. I'll

go get it for you," she said.

"Thanks Wicca woman," he smiled at her.

Tara retrieved the bag, carefully knocked on the door

to the bathroom, handed Xander the bag, and managed to

make it down the stairs before the fit of giggles

overtook her. Willow was going to love this, she

thought.

***

They sat in the living room after dinner. Spike had

tried to slide into a corner, but Buffy had caught his

arm as they left the dining room and led him over to

the couch. He had looked at her hard and she'd glared

back and pointed to the couch.

"Be nice," she ordered. He rolled his eyes, but sat

down, his face a picture of petulance until she sat

next to him. He relaxed a little and sighed as he

looked around the room. It was a jumble of colored

lights, music, and conversations that exploded into

laughter from time to time. He guessed he hadn't been

to a party like this in a long time. In fact, he

rather thought he had never been to one like this, one

where he knew he was welcome. It was a good feeling.

He felt a hand slide into his, and he looked at Buffy

who was talking with Tara who was sitting on the other

end of the couch. She continued to talk to Tara, but

squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, content to be

silent.

Xander watched this exchange from the door to the

kitchen. He kind of figured something was up when he

found Spike on Buffy's porch, carrying a box with

Anya's and his presents. He'd responded to Xander's

surprised, "Spike, what are you doing here?" with a

"Carrying a box, you git," but had held the door open

for him. Something was going on between Buffy and

Spike, but he figured now wasn't the time to be making

a scene. Besides, looking at the couple's clasped

hands, he got the feeling that Buffy wouldn't stand

for anything that would put a damper on the

festivities. Making up his mind, he went out the back

door, got the paper bag out of his car, and returned

to the kitchen. Hunting up a tray, he arranged the

bottles from the bag on it. He picked up the tray and

brought it out to the group gathered in the living.

"Have no fear, the Xand-man has brought the Christmas

cheer!" he set the tray down on the coffee table with

a flourish. On the tray were a bottle of champagne,

a bottle of scotch, and a bottle of sparkling cider.

There were pleased exclamations all round. He went

back into the kitchen and got some glasses. When he

returned to the living room, the bottles had been

opened and he started pouring.

"Here ya go, Buffy," Xander handed her a glass with

bubbles.

"Cider, right?" she asked carefully.

"Oh, year," Xander said fervently.

Eventually, everyone had a beverage, and Xander stood

up and cleared his throat. "I'm not usually one for

brilliant speeches, well, I'm not usually one for

brilliant anything, but hey, I brought the booze, so I

thought I'd make the first toast." He held up his

glass and said, "To friends, here and not here. May

we always remember them." There was a moment of

silence, then as one they said, "To friends."

After a minute or so, the noise level returned to

normal. Buffy got up and got a small bowl and held it

up, intoning, "I have here the names. Who shall dare

to draw first?"

"Me, let me!" Willow wriggled out of her chair and

came over to Buffy. "It's so cool to get Christmas

presents." Buffy held out the bowl and Willow closed

her eyes and pulled out a slip of paper. "Anya," she

called out. Anya made a happy noise and came to get

her gift from Willow. Buffy handed the bowl to Anya

to pick out the next present recipient. The bowl went

round to everyone, and soon there was a lot of paper

on the floor and people comparing gifts. Dawn had

hugged Spike when she opened his gift of a set of

earrings. He'd looked slightly uncomfortable, but

happy all the same. She'd given him a large set of

blank videotapes - for taping Passions, she'd said.

He'd grinned at her and thanked her sincerely,

Buffy came to sit down next to Spike, who hadn't

budged from the couch, but was sitting there, his

glass of scotch still half full. He was gazing at a

small box with an intricate marquetry working of a

star. His gift.

"Wow, that looks nice," Buffy remarked. "Can I see?"

Spike handed it to here without a word. "This is

great. Who gave it to you?"

"Xander," he replied quietly. "I think he made it

himself."

"Double wow," Buffy said with awe, handing it back to

him. "I got some great CD's from Michael. Well, he

assures me they're great. I haven't listened to much

new music since I got back, but," she nodded, "I'm

looking forward to getting back into it."

"Here," he handed her the small box that he'd

purchased at the Magic Box. She took it and looked at

it for a moment, savoring the occasion, then started

ripping the paper. He smiled at her eagerness. She

opened the lid and looked at the box's contents.

On the velvet lining was a necklace, wrought in gold,

with two charms on it - a sun and moon. She looked at

him and said, "It's beautiful."

"It's you," he said softly. "The parts of you,

anyway. The light and the dark," he explained. She

immediately put it on. It glistened just below the

hollow of her neck.

"Thank you," she said simply and hugged him. They sat

next to each other for some time. Spike looked back

at the box; it was bothering him. "Would you excuse me

a minute, luv. I need to speak to someone." He got up

and actually sort of bowed to her before crossing the

room to where Xander was standing talking with Dawn

and Willow. Sometimes, he went all Twilight Zone

time-travelly on her with his mannerisms from the

past. Totally wiggy, but great at the same time. She

settled in on the couch and just watched her friends

have fun, her fingers running over her necklace from

time to time.

Spike waited for a lull in their conversation, then

said quietly to Xander, "A word, if you would." He

turned and went into the kitchen. Xander raised his

eyebrows at Dawn and Willow, then followed him.

"I wanted to thank you for your gift," Spike said

looking intently at Xander. "But, I'm not sure you

would want me to have it. So," he held up the box.

"I'm returning it to you."

"What, my gift not good enough for you, Captain

Peroxide?" Xander snarled at him, intensely angry for

some reason.

"No," Spike was surprised by Xander's vehement

response. "I know that you put a lot of work into it,

and I think that you meant it for one of the Scoobies,

that's all." His tone remained even, almost cordial.

Xander looked at him for a moment, then said, "Who are

you, and what have you done with Spike? 'Cause that

almost sounded like a compliment."

"Take it anyway you like," Spike replied tiredly. He

put the box on the table and made to go out the back

door.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Xander called out to

him.

"Don't get your hopes up, Harris," Spike replied with

a short laugh. "Just going out for a smoke. Buffy

doesn't like it when I smoke in the house."

"Neither do I, but I bet that doesn't rate high on

your list," Xander saw that he was replying to a

closed door. He looked over at the table where the

small box that he'd spent so much time on the last

month sat. He'd had fun. Flexing his carpenter's

muscles, he'd joked with Anya. It wasn't all that

good, but he could see that Spike was impressed with

it. Impressed enough to think that he was not a

welcome recipient for the labor involved. Somehow,

this didn't sit right with Xander, who by rights,

ought to be snatching up his work of art and conveying

safely home. He picked up the box and looked at it,

then put it back down on the table. Coming to a

decision, he walked back into the living room, grabbed

the bottle of scotch and went back into the kitchen.

He got a couple of glasses, tucked the bottle of

scotch under his arm, and picked up the box.

The back door opened and Spike looked up from where he

was seated on the steps of the porch. He was

surprised to see Xander, who shut the door and came to

sit beside him.

"You left this in the kitchen," Xander held out the

box.

"I thought I told you that I understand it was a

Scoobie present," Spike replied, exhaling a stream of

smoke in the cool air. He hated feeling vulnerable

and he was close to going off on Xander, who he

thought was just trying to rub it in that he wasn't

now or would ever be a part of their bloody Scoobie

gang.

"I did give it to a Scoobie," Xander said steadily.

"A really annoying, dead, and possibly the most

unwelcome member of the Scoobie gang ever. But, I

gave it. So shut up and take it, before I change my

mind," and he thrust the box at Spike, who took it

with a very surprised look.

"It's beautiful. Thank you," Spike said presently.

The emotional bombs kept dropping today, and he was

getting a little shell-shocked.

"I had to redo it three times before I got it right,"

Xander remarked. "I couldn't get the edges to match

at first." After a pause, "Drink?"

"God, yes," Spike said fervently. Spike slammed the

scotch Xander handed to him, and sighed heavily in

appreciation.

"You really needed that. Don't do the party thing

much, do you?" Xander replied.

"Not in the last hundred years or so," Spike nodded

his appreciation at his refill.

"Things changed at parties?" Xander asked curiously,

sipping his own drink.

"You'd be surprised how much, mate," Spike said in an

amazed voice.

***

"Where's Xander?" Anya asked Willow.

"Where's Spike?" Dawn asked Buffy.

Neither had been seen for at least half an hour.

Fearing bloodshed, Buffy did a quick search. She

opened the back door and found the two sitting on the

back porch, arguing the merits of American Football

versus English Football. The level in the scotch

bottle had been reduced considerably and cigarette

butts littered the foot of the porch steps. Due to a

woeful lack of tolerance to alcohol, Xander appeared

to losing the argument, but was putting up a valiant

effort. Spike was holding up his glass in one hand

and waving the other to make a point, when he hit

Xander by accident. Xander tumbled down the stairs in

a heap.

"Oi, mate! You all right," Spike sprang up, shook his

head to clear it a bit, then reached down to pluck

Xander up, setting him back down on the step.

"Fine. Just fine," Xander articulated carefully.

"But, I'm thinking this is a good time to go back

inside. Does Buffy know her backyard is spinning?"

Buffy ducked back inside, suppressing laughter.

Making a lot of noise opening the door this time, she

called out, "Hey, guys! Willow says it's time to make

with the fun and games, so come inside." Appropriate

noises came from the two as they moved toward the

door. Spike paused a moment to pick up his box and

they went inside.

Willow had all kinds of silly games ready, and she

made everyone play them all. In a pleasant haze of

scotch, Spike even participated in a few of them.

Buffy won the guess the number of M&M's in the jar,

and she squealed and came over and sat right down in

his lap.

"Look, I got candy!" she cooed happily.

"You've been nipping at the champagne, haven't you,

luv?" Spike spoke severely, but looked indulgent and

hooked a possessive arm around her waist.

Buffy nuzzled his neck and said, "How can you tell?"

Then she thought for a moment. "Ah, I get it.

Vampire sense of smell. Very tricky Big Bad stuff,"

she nodded solemnly, then spoiled it by giggling.

"At least you're a happy drunk," he sighed, resting

his head on her shoulder, looking out on the group,

wanting to judge their reaction to Buffy's display of

affection. It was remarkable by its absence. Another

bloody bomb going off, he mused happily.

Willow, Tara, and Anya were laughing. Two empty

champagne bottles were sitting on the table in front

of them. Xander went to stand next to Anya, and the

three look up at him and started laughing even harder.

Xander glared at Tara, "You told them, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry, Xander," Tara could barely get the words

out, she was laughing so hard. "It was just so

funny."

"Real funny," Xander nodded morosely.

"It's just that she saw your butt, honey," Anya said

consolingly.

"My butt," Xander was hypnotized by the conversation,

unable to move.

"You don't have a cute butt," Anya shook her head.

"But, you make up for it with your penis," she added

brightly.

"Really?" Willow asked, swaying from side to side, but

looking interested.

"Yeah, " Anya went into a detailed explanation that

became white noise for Xander. He hung his head in his

hands. The room was spinning and he sank heavily into

a chair.

The telephone rang and Dawn answered it, "Hey

everyone! It Giles!" She started talking with him,

smiling, and making gestures. After a few minutes,

she passed the phone onto Willow, and went to sit back

down with Michael. Willow talked for a bit, then

handed it off again. Eventually, it made it's way to

Xander.

"Hey, English man," Xander said somewhat listlessly

into the phone. "Merry Christmas, and all that."

"You sound a bit down in the dumps, Xander," Giles

said.

"Well, you would be too, if your fiancée said you

didn't have a cute butt," Xander said in careful,

mournful speech of a very drunk person. "I miss you,

Giles," and he started sobbing into the phone.

Totally appalled, Giles replied, "Ahh, well, I'm quite

sure you have a very cute, uh, butt, Xander, and Happy

Christmas and could you put Buffy on the line,

please?" Xander waved and Buffy, who came over and

took the phone. He looked at Anya and started

listening again to what she was saying to Willow and

Tara. Actually, it was kind of flattering. He was

marrying that girl.

Buffy walked into the kitchen with the phone. "Hey,

Giles," Buffy said into the receiver.

"Merry Christmas, Buffy," Giles replied softly. "How

are you?"

"I'm good," she responded automatically. Then, "I'm

actually really good."

"I'm glad," he said in a relieved voice. "I know it

was hard for you, but I really did think leaving was

the best thing I could do for you, and for me," he

added honestly.

"Are you happy?" Buffy asked in a small voice.

"Not yet," Giles responded. "But, I think I could be.

What about you?"

"I'm happy now," she said with a joy she hadn't truly

felt for a long time, even before her death.

"Oh, God, Buffy," Giles said, almost breaking down.

"I'm so glad."

"I know I didn't appreciate it before, but thank you

for what you did," Buffy said sincerely. "I miss

you."

"I miss you, too," he said softly.

They went on to talk about some of the things that had

been happening. He gave he a few suggestions, and was

frankly floored by the revelation about Angel. She

was talking animatedly when Spike stuck his head in

the door of the kitchen to check on how she was doing.

Buffy waved him in and said, "Hey, he's here now."

She handed the phone to Spike, who looked at as if it

were a cobra. "Talk," she rolled her eyes at him.

"Uh, hallo? Is that Giles?" Spike managed to get out.

"Hallo, Spike," Giles' voice didn't seem like it was

all that threatening. "I understand from Buffy that

things have changed somewhat around there."

"Well, that depends on what she told you," Spike

hedged. "Exactly what was it, anyway?"

"Enough to inform you that if you screw up, I will be

on the next plane to America with a stake in my hand,"

Giles replied in a pleasant voice.

"Just so I know that you care, Watcher," Spike

recovered enough to snark at the older man.

"Be there for her," Giles request sounded like an

order.

"Always, Rupert," Spike responded softly.

"Well," Giles cleared his throat. "Put Buffy back on

then, will you?"

"Sure," Spike replied. "Cheers, mate."

He handed the phone to Buffy, who had been standing

there looking at him the entire time. She smiled as

she took the receiver and began saying goodbye to

Giles. Spike wandered over to the counter where he'd

put Xander's box. He stroked the polished wood and

smiled to himself. Not a bad holiday for a vampire,

he mused.

Buffy said her last goodbyes and hung up. She looked

at Spike, who was standing by the counter, looking

lost in thought. She came over to him and said,

"Hey."

"Eh?" Spike looked up at her. "What, luv?" he slid an

arm around her waist and hugger her to him.

"Just hey," she replied softly.

Spike gazed at the floor for a minute and then looked

so uncomfortable that Buffy was sure he would be

blushing if he were human. "What it is?" she asked.

"I...bloody hell," he fumbled the words. "I'm a

Scoobie," he said happily, pointing to the box.

"You just figuring it out now? Simple much?" she

teased. Looking at him, she realized he very serious.

"It means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"A whole lot, luv," he told her seriously. "You don't

know how much. You and the others. It's a lot," he

repeated.

"Tell me about it?" she asked.

"Sure, luv," he replied, reaching down and taking her

hand. They made their way to the porch, and he

started talking.

Fin

**Well, this is my first challenge fic. It was fun to

do, and hopefully, no anvils were dropped on toes

while I fulfilled the requirements of the challenge ;)

Those requirements were: A Happy Christmas fic set

after "Wrecked" PG-13 or higher, Buffy & Spike getting

trapped in a small room for a day, Buffy making fun of

Angel's hair, Mistletoe, Tara & Willow back together,

S/B lovin' & kissage, Tara walking in on Xander naked,

a Christmas party with present for all, happy S/B

ending. Must have 3 of the following, but can include

all: Giles telling Xander he has a cute butt, whipped

cream, Anya dancing the Macarena, Dawn bringing a boy

to the get together and Spike grilling him, something

to do with S/B, presents, and M&M's, and Spike in

something other than black.

=====

his_luv_pet