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Santa never forgets a Champion



“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ll be starting our descent into JFK airport in the next couple of minutes. Unfortunately, because of the weather, there’s more traffic than usual and we’ll have to circle the airport for a while. Things might get a little bumpy on descent due to the snow so I apologize in advance. We’ll try to get you on the ground as fast as we can. We thank you for your patience.”


The blond man sitting in row 3B didn’t hear the announcement, lost as he was in his thoughts. His hand was mindlessly moving the glass of Jack Daniel’s he was holding in slow circles, his blue gaze not seeing the amber liquid moving around. The sound of the ice cubes clinking against the glass went unnoticed. On the table tray in front of him, a cheerful Christmas card lay, abandoned. The little snowman with his Santa hat was the sole reason for Spike to be sitting in a plane on its way to New York City.

A particularly strong turbulence shook the plane, but Spike didn’t react. He usually wasn’t a good flyer--there was just something about being trapped in this death box forty thousand feet in the air that made him feel vulnerable--but today, he was too distracted to care.

He shook his head in answer when the flight attendant asked if she could offer him anything else before landing. She asked him to fasten his seatbelt before turning to address another passenger. Spike’s gaze landed on the mysterious card.

Pale fingers caressed the smooth surface of the greeting card before opening it. He read the words again.




William, Meet me at the Rockefeller Center, in front of the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve at 7pm. Don’t disappoint and don’t be late.




Not personal handwriting; calligraphy. Lots of flourishes, very artistic, and crafted with expensive, high quality ink. Nothing that could reveal who had sent it. And he did not care. Not one bloody bit.

The card had been delivered to him by a Wolfram & Hart employee, on the night of the 22nd, while he was busy drinking his misery away in Angel‘s empty office. Trying to forget that somewhere in the world, people he had cared about in another lifetime, people he still cared about, were preparing to celebrate the holidays. He could imagine them, most likely in England with the Watcher, busy making sure their first Christmas away from home would be a happy one.

To be fair, he didn’t even know if they all made it out of the Hellmouth before it came crashing down, but he would not ask the poofter either. He really liked believing that they did. He could imagine the Watcher drinking his beloved scotch while Red was standing on a chair, hanging Christmas decorations around the door frame, bitching that she could have done it all in the blink of an eye by using magic. The Whelp drinking too much eggnog, stuffing his face with snacks and cracking lame holiday jokes while the demon girl was rolling her eyes and telling him how he was gonna get fat if he kept eating like that. The nibblet was probably chatting everyone’s ears off while decorating the Christmas tree and annoying the bleeding hell out of Rupert, asking him for the hundredth time what he bought her for Christmas. And Buffy… Well, he didn’t really want to think about Buffy. He was depressed enough as it was, he didn’t need to get down right miserable.

So that night, he drank to forget that he had no one now. Drank to forget that none of the people currently in his life really knew him, or cared to find out who he was. Fred had been friendly enough and had tried helping him, but that’s just the type of person she was. The chit was the bleedin’ Nancy Drew of science. If there was a mystery, she needed to solve it. Not to mention that she had a heart of gold and just didn’t have it in her to abandon someone who needed help. There was nothing more to it. None of the people working with the Great Wanker had been there for the past couple of years of his life. The most decisive six years out of more than a century of existence, and there was nothing left of it and no witnesses. He had died a hero, and had been resurrected a nuisance. He had died looking into eyes filled with pride and something that he dared think might have been love, and had been resurrected only to see eyes filled with contempt and hatred. The eyes of his grandsire. How bloody fair was that?

Spike knew he was indulging in some heavy duty self-pity, but the forced invitation to the Wolfram & Hart Christmas party had brought this on.

The night before, he’d stopped by the office to see if maybe there was something for him to help with, when Lorne had stopped him in a hallway to ask what he was wearing to the party. An awkward moment followed when Lorne realized Spike had no idea what party he was talking about. As usual, the blonde vampire put on a brave face and pretended not to give a toss about some soddin’ Christmas party. The next day, he received an invitation. It was a slap in the face and another reminder that he was nothing to these people. He would have preferred no invitation at all rather than this show of pity.

For all these reasons, the mystery card had come as a blessing. Cryptic message and first class ticket to NYC. A trap, no doubt about it. But he preferred by far throwing himself head first into a trap to spending an evening in a room full of people where he was unwanted. Besides, L.A. was quickly losing its appeal. Maybe he wouldn’t use the return ticket. Stay in New York for a while; see what the city had to offer. And a place like that had to have a large demon population. He could continue fighting the good fight without being the third wheel to the Soulful Wonder and his posse. This opportunity could only be good for him.

Spike made the mistake of deciding to share his plan with Angel; tell him he was leaving for New York. Some last ditch effort to seek approval from his grandsire--not that he would ever admit it. Angel laughed in his face. In that condescending tone of his, he told Spike that he was an idiot for going there but that it was his business if he wanted to get himself killed. Spike did the translation in his head: Good riddance. Most likely, the poofter was happy to go back to being the only souled vampire in town.

“Fuck you, Peaches.” Spike mumbled under his breath.

He closed the card and put it in the inside pocket of his duster. He looked outside only to see that they were close to the ground. He shut his eyes and tried to relax. The captain’s voice came over the P.A. once more.


“Flight attendants, to your jumpseats for landing.”


The giant metal bird landed on the runway surprisingly smoothly. Spike looked at his watch. Six o’clock. He would be late for sure. This wasn’t good. But he didn’t worry too much about it. Getting there early would have been a good thing, but dealing with the unexpected was what he did best. He jumped into a situation, fought with fists and fangs, and came out--well… sometimes bruised and battered, but always grinning and ready for another fight. Today was no different.

At least, that’s what he thought as he made his way to the Rockefeller Center. A long alley led to the beautifully decorated oversized tree, illuminated giant angels on each side of the alley. A white wonderland. And then, he knew he would not win this particular fight as soon as he saw her standing there in front of the Christmas tree.

Spike stopped walking, unable to take even one more step. They just looked at each other for the longest moment, time freezing around them.

Buffy.

She was breathtaking, standing there in a long red winter jacket, her golden hair on her shoulders, snow swirling around her. She was hugging herself, shivering in the harsh winter weather, but she was smiling. Spike couldn’t believe his eyes, and a part of him even thought it was a dream. Or maybe the cold gave him a hallucination. Could also be that the flight attendant put something in his drink. But whatever it was, he didn’t care. As long as he didn’t wake up, it was all right with him.

Looking uncomfortable under Spike’s unwavering gaze, Buffy unfolded her arms and shoved her gloved hands in her pockets. She looked down.

“You’re late.” She said, looking through her long lashes.

Spike tried to answer, make one of his trademark smart ass comments, something familiar and comfortable, but he could not get one word out.

“What? No hello?” She said, sounding almost insecure. “Is your silence caused by surprise, or disappointment? Because if you were expecting to see someone else…”

This prompted Spike to finally move again. He slowly walked up to her, until he was close enough to touch her. The look of wonder in his eyes was enough to put Buffy’s insecurities at rest.

Spike smiled at her and reached out to brush some snow off her shoulder. “You’re cold.” He said unnecessarily, a slight tremor in his voice.

She chuckled nervously. “Well, yeah. It’s not exactly California weather in case you haven‘t noticed.”

He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this. Seeing Buffy again was something he’d only imagined in his wildest dreams, but that‘s all they were: dreams. When night came and he was awake again, the dreams always gave place to reality and in this reality, a reunion with Buffy was very unlikely. Not because he physically couldn’t. Many times the thought of buying a plane ticket and flying across the ocean to see her again entered his mind. But he wouldn’t do it. Their paths had separated on the Hellmouth that day, and he had made the decision to not intrude on her life again. He’d accepted giving her up, for her own good. And now, he was standing in front of her and had to say something but was at a loss for words.

“What…” He shook his head, desperately trying to clear his foggy mind. “What are you doing in New York, pet? Not that I’m not happy to see you.” He added quickly, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

God was he ever happy to see her.

She was looking anywhere but at him, only sparing him quick glances before looking away again. They could both feel the tension and neither of them knew how to break the ice.

“Why not New York?” She said, her voice shaking lightly. “I’ve been all over the place in the last couple of months. Visited Europe, traveled through the United States. We’ve been recruiting Slayers. It’s been… It’s been all right. I mean, not great, but OK. I’ve always wanted to travel, you know? So it’s good to have a chance to do it. We opened a couple of training schools for all the Slayers. There’s one in New York. It’s the biggest one. I had the choice of where I wanted to spend Christmas.”

She was babbling nervously and she knew it. Trying to avoid asking the one question that had been torturing her since she’d found out he was back. Trying to stop herself from stomping her foot like a spoiled brat and demanding an explanation for his silence. Or quite possibly lose it and start crying and pounding on his chest.

“I… I didn’t want to spend Christmas in London. I couldn’t stand being around Giles and the others for some reason. So here seemed like a good choice at the time. It’s a little cold but…”

“Buffy.”

Her eyes filled up with tears and finally, she couldn’t hold back the question anymore.

“You were back. All this time… you were back.” she whispered, her voice tainted with pain. “How could you?”

“How could… Bloody hell.” he gave her a disbelieving look. “You can’t be serious, asking me that.”

The intensity of her stare made him look away uncomfortably. “For the same reason I do everything, Buffy. For you. You think I just enjoyed my grand new life so much that I decided to forget about the love of my life?.. Well guess what, luv, living surrounded by people who don’t give a toss about me isn’t exactly joyful and welcoming. Every soddin’ day, I woke up and had to restrain myself from running back to you.”

Tears were now streaming freely down Buffy’s cheek as she shook her head, refusing to listen to this.

“You don’t make any sense. None whatsoever.”

“Don’t I? Really? Is it so unconceivable that for once in my bleedin’ life I decided that to love you the way I do, I couldn’t be selfish? All I wanted was for you to finally be happy. Have a shot at that normal life you kept going on about since I’ve met you. You finally had your chance and I couldn’t just barge in and ruin it.”

“Oh for crying out loud, cut the crap, Spike.”

His eyes widened comically. “Excuse me?”

“Have you conveniently forgotten our last night together, Spike? Do you have selective memory and decided to erase words that took me such a long time to finally get out in the open? You die, miraculously get resurrected, the woman you claim to love more than anything told you right before you died that she loves you, and yet, you don’t try to find her? How long did it take you to come up with this lame excuse to justify staying away from me? I’m curious.”

Embarrassment shone briefly in his blue eyes before he looked down again. “About a month. Give or take.”

“This isn’t funny you moron!” She exclaimed, her voice sounding shrill to her own ears.

“Wasn’t meant to be, pet.”

“You don’t get to make choices for me, whether you believe it’s for my own good or not. Enough people in the past have done it; I don’t need you to do it too. Who do you think you are? Angel?”

He growled, the sound coming from low in his chest, his eyes darkening at the mention of the hated name. “Don’t go there, Buffy.”

“Then tell me how could I not make a comparison? You did exactly what he did. You decided for me what would make me happy. Well, news flash you brain dead bleached moron, I cried for you. I thought you were DEAD. I had to live every day thinking you’d died. And all this time, you were in L.A.? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? And when I found out, how the hell did you think it would make me feel?”

“I don’t know, OK? I don’t. I just thought…”

“You thought wrong. You chose a hell of a bad time to decide to become selfless.”

“Well excuse me for trying.” Spike snapped, getting increasingly annoyed. But he honestly couldn’t tell if it was at her, or at himself. He was slowly realizing how incredibly stupid his idea had been. All his reasons for staying away from her were crumbling one after the other.

He’d wanted her to be happy. But she had the right to chose what or who made her happy, didn’t she? He had wanted her last memory of him to be one of a hero. But did being resurrected void what he’d done on the Hellmouth? No. He’d been a coward. He’d been afraid of rejection. Terrified that she would take the words back and that he’d be left with nothing.

“Look, its Christmas.” Buffy said, her tone softer. “I missed you every minute of every day. It took losing you to make me realize what a big part of my life you really were--how important it was for me to have you standing by my side. And now, you’re here again, standing in front of me. And instead of being grateful for this second chance the way we should, we’re just being idiots and arguing over stupid issues that shouldn‘t really matter. This is not the way I wanted this to happen.”

“How did you want this to happen, Buffy?” he asked softly.

She chuckled nervously. “I don’t know… Like in some kind of cheesy romance novel I guess.” She smiled bashfully. “Running in the snow and throwing ourselves in each other’s arms. Something like that… I don’t know. But definitely not standing frozen on the spot like two strangers.”

Before she could even finish her sentence, he’d pulled her into his arms and hugged her fiercely.

“I’m sorry, luv. I missed you so much you have no idea. But…”

“But what?” She asked, her voice muffled by the leather of his jacket.

“But I couldn’t go back to being the bloody undead bullet hooked around your ankle and holding you back from finding happiness anymore. Don’t you get it? With all the other Slayers around the world, you finally had a shot at a normal life. I figured the last thing you needed was for your own love sick vampire pet to show up at your door. I couldn’t do that to you pet. I needed to think of you for once in my bloody life, not myself. I just wanted you to be happy.”

“I’m happiest when I’m with you, you big dummy!” She nearly shouted at him.

“No you’re not. You’re miserable when I’m around.”

“If you really do believe that, either you’re way stupid, which I know you’re not, or I did a fantastic job of convincing you. But I was happy with you. Maybe not at first because I didn’t want to be, but if you hadn’t been there by my side last year, I don’t know what I would have done. I don’t think I would have survived the final battle without you there with me. And I’m not just talking about the way you sacrificed yourself.” She hesitated, then looked up at him, a spark in her eyes. “Well… it did help some.”

Spike let go of her, his hand resting on her shoulders, and narrowed his eyes in mock anger. She managed a small grin.

“I meant those words I said.” Buffy continued, her serious returning. “I love you. I don’t care about normal anymore. You showed me that not so normal could be good too. And… If you had given me the choice, if you had called to let me know you were back, I would have been on a plane to L.A. within the hour.”

She gave him a hopeful look. “You have to believe that. I know I gave you reasons to doubt it, but it’s the truth. I was miserable without you, Spike. I love you.” Her voice was pleading with him to believe her.

Spike looked down to hide the tears that were threatening to spill. He finally gave up and pulled her back into his arms to hide his face against her neck. He managed to chuckle. “Not very manly of me, is it?”

Buffy hugged him close to her body. “Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Manly Man. No one will ever know you cried. Except… Can I tell Xander? It could be his Christmas present or something.”

His growl vibrated through her body. She laughed. “Fine, I won‘t tell anybody.”

They stayed like that for a while until Spike noticed how she was shivering because of the cold.

He pulled away to look at her, his lips so close to hers that he could feel her warm breath against his own skin. He reached up to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ears. “So… Are we good? Can I kiss you now?” he asked hopefully.

She smiled and nodded before his lips connected with hers. How such a simple gesture could carry so many different emotions, she didn’t know. But that kiss told her everything she needed to know about how he’d felt in the past few months away from her. How much he still loved her, and how much he’d missed her. She couldn’t hold back the sob that coursed through her body at the despair she could feel through the simple caress of his lips on hers.

Her fingers dug in his leather clad shoulders while his tongue made love to hers. Of all the kisses they’d share over the years, this one was quite possibly the best.

Spike pulled away, a blissful smile on his face. “I think we should get you inside before you catch your death. It’s getting cold.”

She nodded happily, a matching smile on her face.

He took her hand in his and started walking away, but she stopped him.

“I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Would you be my date tonight? I promised I’d make an appearance at the Christmas party.”

“You mean that I just got you back and I already have to share you with a bunch of people?” He complained sulkily.

“Just for a little while. And we could stop by my hotel room first if you want. I got a Christmas present for you.”

“Is it something I have to… unwrap?”

She gave him a naughty grin, her eyes sparkling with lust. “Definitely.”

“I’ll be your date then. But I can’t guarantee we’ll get there on time if you give me my prezzie first.”

“Well, the ‘prezzie’ can’t wait to be ‘unwrapped’ so I guess we’ll be fashionably late then.”

Spike chuckled and shook his head in amusement. “Sounds good to me, pet. Let’s go. Hope that hotel of yours isn’t too far because I just can’t wait.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as he pulled on her hand to make her walk faster. “Geez, Spike, you’re such a kid. So impatient…”

“You know you love it, baby.” He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked side by side. “This is one hell of a bloody good Christmas if you ask me, luv.”

She squeezed his hand in her gloved one and smiled softly. “The best.”