Chapter 20:

Buffy stopped outside the door to her bedroom, reluctant to go inside. She hated fighting with Spike and she couldn't exactly say that she was as angry with him as she'd been earlier that morning, but his comments had still hurt. There was a good chance that she'd try to make up with him, he'd say something else stupid, she'd get more hurt, and they'd be worse off than before she attempted to apologize.

Or maybe he'd keep his mouth in check for once and they could just straighten everything out and be fine.

It was that second possibility that gave her the push she needed to go into the room. She had enough stress in her life right now being at odds with her mother, she didn't need to throw a fight with Spike into the mix—especially on Christmas Eve.

Spike was sitting at the end of the bed when she walked in, and he looked up at her, his expression reminding her every bit of a kicked puppy. "M'sorry," he muttered, glancing down again.

Sometimes Buffy hated just how adorable he could make himself whenever she was mad at him, but now she was grateful, happy to stop being angry and just give in to his charm. She sat beside him, rubbing his back. "I know you are."

"Don't want anyone other than you, y'know," Spike told her. "Never met another woman who makes me feel the way you do."

"I know," Buffy said, leaning in and pressing a kiss on his shoulder. "I'm just extra-tense girl right now, what with Momzilla and all."

Spike gave a little half grin. "I still shouldn't have said that. Too early in the morning, blood flowing in the wrong direction, etc." Spike paused and Buffy chuckled lightly. "That time before," Spike said after a moment, "Before I met you—I wasn't at my best, pet. I'm not a womanizer. I have more respect for women than that. But I'd just broken up with Drusilla, and she was, well, the only woman I'd ever been with. May be hard to believe seeing what a damn sexy bloke I turned out to be and all, but there was a time when people would've found it a bit less shocking to hear that I'm the son of a librarian. Then Dru came along and she fixed me up, made me feel like I was somebody."

Spike paused again, sighing. He hated to talk about it all, the wounds still fresh even now, but he knew he should tell Buffy, let her know where he was coming from. If she could open up about the death of the man she'd loved before him, then he could tell her about a messy break-up. "When Drusilla left me, it was like the rug had been snatched out from under me. I didn't see it coming, although looking back I probably should have. So much of my identity was tied into her. She's the woman who made me Spike, if that makes any bloody sense. I was pathetic little William until she came along, and then when she left, I was afraid I would be again. So I may have overcompensated a little. She made me feel like I was less of a man, so I tried to prove that I wasn't. It's not really a good reason or excuse, but it's what it was."

"It's okay," Buffy said, taking his hand. "I can get that."

"I don't want to be with a lot of different women," Spike told her. "Some guys say monogamy is boring, but I tend to be the other way around. I like getting to know a woman—getting to learn her. You can't do that if you're going your separate ways the next morning."

Buffy pushed an errant curl off his forehead. "You don't have to be just Spike, you know. William's a pretty good guy, too."

Spike scoffed. "You don't know William."

"Yes I do."

"I was a right git as a kid, Buffy. I was always writing this bloody awful poetry and my hair—looked like I stuck my tongue in a sodding light socket."

Buffy fought the smile that was creeping to her face. "I've seen the pictures, and it wasn't that bad. I mean yeah, I prefer it now, because you've got some damn sexy hair, but it wasn't unsalvageable. And if your writing was 'bloody awful' then, it's gotten a lot better now. I love your songs, you know."

"I'm never very sure about them. I got so used to people laughing at everything I wrote."

"They're not laughing now, Spike. They're cheering. I've seen those girls hanging off the side of the stage—you've got groupies." Buffy elbowed him playfully.

"Don't care about groupies," Spike replied, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her against his side. "Only care about my girl."

"And you have me." Buffy paused for a moment, frowning. "Only not, y'know, like that until we get back home."

"I hope you know you're getting ravaged as soon as we walk though the door," Spike replied. "You're not going to be able to walk straight for a week."

Buffy giggled. "Promises, promises."

"Oh, you're gonna get it, missy," Spike said, his hand creeping to her side to tickle her. She squealed, twisting in his grasp.

"Hey! Evil!" Buffy exclaimed between giggles.

"You better believe it, baby," Spike said, tongue between his teeth.

"Don't do that!" Buffy scolded, smacking his shoulder. "Having to wait a week is bad enough without you looking all sexy."

"So what am I to do if I can't look sexy? Put a bag over my head?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And how exactly do you fit your ego in this room?"

"It's slipping a bit through the crack beneath the door."

"Uh huh. Pathetic much?"

"Only pathetic if it's not true, baby." Spike winked at her, making Buffy shiver. "See—you know how bloody sexy I am."

Buffy smiled slowly, then leaned in, her mouth right against his ear. "You're right. I do. It's gonna be real hard keeping my hands off of you all…week…long." She punctuated each of the last three words by nipping at his earlobe.

Spike's mouth opened for a second before he snapped it shut. "Buffy…kitten, please…"

Buffy could see him straining in his jeans and decided to take pity on the guy. Actual sex still left too much room for getting caught, but maybe she could get away with a little something. She stood up, glancing behind her to make sure the door was indeed shut before getting to her knees in front of Spike. He looked down at her as she did, raising an eyebrow. "Shh…" Buffy said, pressing her finger to her lips. "Make one sound and I stop—got it?"

Spike nodded quickly, his dick growing harder in his jeans at the sight of her there. Buffy popped open the buttons of his fly, pulling him out into her warm hands and making Spike thrust up, needing more of her touch.

Buffy was tempted to tease, loving how she could drive Spike to begging, but she didn't want to waste time in case they were interrupted. Instead, she leaned forward, taking as much of him in her mouth as she could in one stroke. Spike bit his bottom lip, grasping white-knuckled at the edge of the mattress, fighting to keep from vocalizing his pleasure.

What she couldn't fit down her throat, Buffy wrapped her hand around, stroking and turning in time with her mouth. She swallowed around him, and Spike's eyes rolled up, his hips lifting slightly off the bed. He struggled to stay quiet, not wanting to test if she'd been serious when she said she'd stop.

Buffy pulled back slightly, bringing air into her lungs again. She looked up at Spike, smirking around his cock as she saw the look on his face. His expression was one of tortured bliss, and she knew she could either give him more pleasure or take it away. It was a heady feeling, that sort of power.

Luckily for Spike, she was in a benevolent mood. Buffy knew exactly how to push him over the edge, and took his balls in her hand, squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure as she hummed around his shaft. Spike gripped the bed tighter, unable to hold back his strangled groan as he came inside her mouth, Buffy deftly swallowing it all.

"You bad boy," Buffy said as she pulled back, licking her lips. "You made a sound."

"Couldn't help it, pet," Spike replied, panting. "You're just too bloody good at that."

"Well, you were behaved for the rest of it, so I guess I can forgive you," Buffy said. She gave his cock a soft kiss before tucking him back into his jeans and buttoning them.

"You're as gracious as you are beautiful," Spike said with a smile as Buffy got to her feet. "Do you want me to…"

"No," Buffy said. "Well, I want you to, but I don't think we should push it anymore right now. Besides, we both know I can't be quiet."

"Not something that's ever gotten any complaints from me. I love to make you scream." Spike took hold of her hands, pulling her down into his lap. He held her for a moment, his face resting against her hair. "So we're good now?"

"Yeah, we’re good," Buffy replied, smiling. "You can have a get-out-of-the-doghouse free card on account of it being Christmas Eve."

"If that's the case, I think I like Christmas Eve. You let me off for being a jackass and then you blow me. Bloody good holiday this one."

Buffy sat up a little, rolling her eyes. "You're just a lost cause, you know that right?"

"Yeah, but you love me anyway, so I'm really quite all right with it."

"Well, as long as you're happy," Buffy teased. She got up from his lap reluctantly and stretched. "We should probably go downstairs. As much as I'd love to stay in here with you all day, the whole point of visiting the family is, well, visiting the family—even if certain members of said family make me want to scream."

"I'll be here for you, pet. Won't let her get you. And if it starts to look like it's getting too bad, we'll go someplace else. I'm not going to let you be miserable, especially on Christmas."

"I know. You're good like that." Buffy leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. "Now let's go face the world."

*** *** ***

Despite the fact that having to keep up appearances meant that she couldn't snuggle up with her boyfriend and had to instead sit with her sister wedged between them, Buffy was having a good time. They had put in the DVD of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer at Dawn's request, and she was enjoying the bit of Christmas cheer. She kept glancing over at Spike, noticing that he was way more engrossed in the movie than she was certain he'd claim he had been later. She smiled to herself, wondering who he thought he was fooling with that "Big Bad" persona of his. He was just a big softy.

"Buffy, can I speak with you alone for a moment?"

Buffy's heart sank. There it was, the Voice of Doom, guaranteed to ruin any nice moment. "I'm sort of in the middle of a movie, Mom," Buffy said, wanting nothing less than to go off alone with her mother, especially since the sour look on Joyce's face made it quite clear that it was not for some sort of heartfelt reconciliation.

"You've seen this movie plenty of times, Buffy," Joyce snapped. "Now get up and come with me to the kitchen."

Spike looked over at Buffy, silently asking if she needed his help, but she just softly shook her head and stood, following her mother out. As soon as they were in the kitchen, Joyce took something from her pocket and slammed it down on the island. "Care to tell me why I found these in your room, Buffy?"

Buffy looked at the item in question, her eyes widening as she identified it as her birth control pills. "You were snooping?"

"I wasn't snooping," Joyce replied. "I was cleaning. And that is so not the point, young lady."

"It is the point!" Buffy yelled, snatching the pills off the counter. "My personal life is none of your business."

"It damn well is! You're my daughter!"

"Am I?" Buffy snapped in response. "You sure as hell don't treat me like one."

"Oh, how dare you!" Joyce countered. "After everything I've had to put up with with you! And I did not let you move to New York so you could start sleeping around!"

"I am not sleeping around! And you didn't let me do anything. You know as well as I do that I went there to be as far away from you as I could get!"

"You, Buffy, are an ungrateful, selfish, spoiled little brat," Joyce replied. "I gave up everything so you could have a good life, and all you've done is throw it in my face!"

"Gave up everything? Yeah, you looked like you were really hurting living in Dad's mansion all those years. And now, well, you're practically in the poor house as you live out your dream of owning an art gallery!" Buffy was shaking as she yelled at her mother, years of pent up emotions seeming to be coming to the surface. "I held the man I loved in my arms as he died, and you couldn't even show the smallest amount of pity for me. You sent me away, brushed me under the rug like I was some uncomfortable problem."

"That is not true!"

"It is true! I was hurting! I felt like my heart had been ripped out, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up. Didn't that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it did! Buffy, I hated seeing you in that kind of pain, and I got you the help you needed!"

"No, no you didn't." Buffy wiped at her eyes, brushing away angry tears. "You don't know what it was like, being there. I was alone and hurting. You let them take me away and lock me up where I was all alone."

"Buffy…"

"No! God, you want to know about selfish? Look in the damn mirror." Buffy held up the small package of pills. "And these are because I'm in a monogamous relationship with a man that loves me. And yes, I'm having sex. Lots and lots of sex. So deal with it!" She stormed out of the kitchen, going back to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

Back in the living room, Dawn and Spike sat uncomfortably on the couch, Buffy and Joyce's fight easy for them to hear, even with the television still on. They shared a look, and Spike started to get up, slowly at first, then quicker as he noticed Joyce on her way to the stairs.

"Leave her alone, Joyce. I mean it. You go up there right now, and we're on the first flight back to New York."

Joyce stopped in her tracks, turning to look at Spike. "It's you."

Spike paused at that, clearing his throat. "What?"

"The one Buffy needs those pills for—it's you."

Spike searched his mind desperately for something to say, knowing this wouldn't make things at all easier for Buffy. But he couldn't, and Joyce took his silence as an admission.

"Get out of my house."

Spike took a step back. "Joyce…"

"No, I want you gone. I trusted you alone with Buffy, and you took advantage of that. And you're Rupert's son. It's just…well, it's sick."

Spike bristled. "I love her, Joyce. There's nothing sick about that."

"There's a lot sick about it, William. Now get your things, and go. You're not welcome here."

"I'm not leaving Buffy."

Joyce threw her hands up. "You know what, fine. Why don't you both just go then." She turned around and stormed off.

With his shoulders slumped, Spike trudged up the stairs to Buffy.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 21:

Spike's heart clenched as he walked in and saw Buffy sitting in the middle of the bed, her knees pulled to her chin as she cried, and he wished he didn't have to tell her what he had to now. "Kitten?" he said softly.

Buffy looked up, her face red and splotchy from her tears. "Yeah?"

"I, uh, I think I just made things worse."

Her eyes widened at that and her voice trembled as she spoke. "Worse?"

"Yeah." Spike ran his hand through his curls, shifting from one foot to the other. "I wasn't trying to. See, I saw Joyce coming up here, and I didn't want her to yell at you anymore, so I told her to leave you alone. But apparently I was a little too overtly protective of you, because it made her piece things together—about us."

Buffy sighed heavily. "Well, I guess it might as well be out in the open. I was already getting sick of pretending I wasn't with you."

"Um, there's a little more. See, she got really upset about it and told me to leave. Then I told her I wasn't leaving you, and…"

Buffy got up, able to discern where Spike's explanation was going. "Let's start packing then."

"I'm really sorry, pet. I didn't mean to make things go like this."

"Spike, it's not your fault. She's the crazy bitch. And if she threw you out, of course I was going to. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Where are we going to go?" Spike asked. "It's Christmas Eve—not exactly the prime time to be hunting for a hotel room."

"We'll find something. God, we'll sleep in your car if we have to."

"No," Spike replied. "I'm not having you spend sodding Christmas in my car."

Buffy put her hand on his arm. "Hey—I'll be with you. That's the important part. And besides, the whole 'no roof over our heads' thing is just chock-full of Christmas spirit."

Spike chuckled lightly. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"I try," Buffy replied. "Okay, if she wants us gone, then let's not waste any time." She grabbed her bag and started to put her things back into it. Spike took a deep breath, then followed suit.

*** *** ***

Buffy and Spike were putting their things in the trunk of his car when Rupert pulled up to the house, returning from a last-minute run to the grocery store. He turned off the engine and got out of his own car quickly, walking up to the pair. "What's going on?"

"Mom kicked us out," Buffy replied. "Apparently she doesn't approve of our relationship."

Rupert sucked in a deep breath. "Oh, like hell she did. Get your things and go back in the house."

"Da…" Spike started.

"No. Get your things right now and get back in the house. You are not going anywhere," Giles said, his tone leaving little room for argument.

Buffy and Spike exchanged a quick look but pulled their bags from the trunk, Spike slamming it shut before they followed Giles back inside.

"Joyce!" Rupert yelled as he got into the house. "Joyce, I want to talk to you this instant."

Joyce came into the foyer. "Rupert," she began, only to be cut off by her furious husband,

"Now, you listen here. I've had just about enough of this. If you want to go around in a snit and make yourself miserable, then you know what, fine. You're missing out on getting to know the wonderful young woman your daughter is, and that's very sad for you. But don't you dare try to send them away from me, too. For starters, this is the first Christmas I have had with my son since he was a teenager. Nothing is going to stop me from having that, not even you. Secondly, what sort of heartless woman do you have to be to turn your own child out of the house on Christmas Eve? Your own flesh and blood, Joyce! Now, I love you, I do, but I'm seriously starting to question if you're even the woman I thought I married."

Joyce paled slightly. "Rupert, I…"

"No. I mean it, Joyce. This is my home, too, and I'm spending the holidays with my children. End of the bloody story."

"Your children are sleeping together!" Joyce exclaimed. "Did you know that?"

Rupert winced, taking off his glasses then to polish them. "Yes, I did, though seeing as they are not blood related, nor were they raised as relatives, I've chosen to keep my nose out of where it doesn't belong. They're both adults, and what they do in their personal lives is none of my concern."

"None of your concern! And…and you knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?"

Rupert raised his eyebrow. "And seeing as you've handled it all so rationally, I can't imagine why I would've been crazy enough to do that."

Joyce scoffed. "Oh, I'm handling this irrationally? This is insane! I can't just bite my tongue while I know something like this is going on!"

"Well, if they want to be together, I seriously doubt there's anything you can say to make them change their minds, so you'd do just as well to bite it," Giles replied. "Now, as I've already stated, I'm not spending Christmas without them. Furthermore, this is my home, and I do not intend to leave it. So, the way I see it, you have one of two choices. You can either suck it up and behave like an adult instead of a three-year-old who didn't get her way, or you can leave yourself, seeing as you’re the one apparently so keen on spending Christmas alone."

Joyce gasped. "Well, I…" She stopped, her mouth snapping shut for a moment before she spoke again. "Fine. I hope you're all happy." She stopped upstairs, slamming the door hard enough to make the walls shake.

They were all silent for a moment before Rupert cleared his throat. "They're showing It's a Wonderful Life in two hours at the Sun Cinema. I bet if we drive very, very slowly we can make it."

"And that sounds like a plan to me," Buffy said, dropping her bags by the coat rack in order to not have to go back upstairs at the moment. "Dawn, you coming?"

Dawn peeked her head out from behind the wall in the living room where she'd been hiding through her mother and Rupert's argument. "Wild dogs couldn't stop me," she replied, grabbing her coat.

The four of them walked out of the house together.

*** *** ***

They killed some time driving around the local neighborhoods, looking at the Christmas decorations despite the fact that it was not yet dark before finally arriving at the theater. Giles let Dawn and Spike out at the front telling them to buy tickets both to let him park the car and to give him a moment to speak to Buffy alone.

Giles parked his car and then turned around to look at Buffy in the backseat. "Are you all right, my dear?"

"I'm okay, I guess," Buffy said. "But I am really sorry, Giles."

"Sorry?" Giles asked with a frown. "Whatever for?"

"For ruining your Christmas. For ruining everybody's Christmas," she replied.

"Buffy, you did nothing of the sort. If anyone's 'ruined Christmas,' it would be your mother."

"I shouldn't have come," Buffy asserted. "I knew she'd be like this. Everything would've been better if Spike and I had just stayed in New York."

"No, it wouldn't have," Giles insisted. "Despite everything that's happened, I am quite glad to be able to spend the holiday with you and with Spike. I haven't spent Christmas with him since he was a teenager, and the last few were quite strained at that. I also haven't seen you since you moved to New York. So no, you haven't ruined my Christmas. You've made it that much brighter by allowing me to spend it with my family."

"I wish Mom could think like that."

"So do I." Rupert reached out and patted her leg. "Come on. Let's not let her spoil our day, all right?"

"Yeah, all right. Might as well go and be assured that the world really wouldn't be any better if I'd never been born," Buffy muttered, reaching for the buckle to her seatbelt.

Giles started at that. "Do you think otherwise?"

"Sometimes," Buffy admitted with a sigh. "I just, I don't know, feel like I've brought more misery to the people around me than anything else."

"That isn't true," Giles said, the insistence in his voice so vehement that it made Buffy look up. "Please, don't ever think that. I've never considered knowing you anything but a gift, Buffy. And if you think you only bring misery, well, look at my son. He's happy Buffy. Do you know how long it's been since he's been happy? I watched something die inside of him the day we buried his mother, and you've managed to wake it up again. I can't even begin to tell you what it means to me that you've made William be able to truly smile again."

"He's helped me be happy, too," Buffy said.

"I know. And I'm also grateful for that. What I want most in the world is for you, William, and Dawn to be happy."

"Do you…do you think you and Mom are going to be okay? I don't want you two to break-up, especially on account of me."

"I believe we will be," Giles replied. "I'm quite angry with her at the moment, but I do love your mother. I have every intention of working things out with her."

"Good. I really do want you to."

"I know."

"So can we go in now?" Buffy asked.

Giles smiled softly. "Yes, we can. Come on."

They walked together up to the front of the Sun Cinema, meeting up with Spike and Dawn. Spike noticed the glistening of tears in Buffy's eyes and opened up his duster, letting Buffy move against his side, wrapping her arms around his waist for comfort. He held on to her, kissing the top of her head.

"There's more people than I would've thought would be here," Dawn said. "Usually this place only has customers when they're showing those foreign movies that Mom won't let me see."

At that, Giles cleared his throat. "So should we go in then?"

"Let's," Spike replied, giving Buffy a gentle squeeze. He kept his arm around her as they walked into the theater, and Buffy stayed close by his side, feeling as if as long as she was with him, things would turn out okay.

*** *** ***

Two and a half hours later, Spike, Buffy, Giles, and Dawn were walking slowly out of the theater, none of them in much of a rush to get back home and face Joyce, despite the fact that it was starting to get late in the evening,

Dawn kicked a piece of gravel in her path. "Do you think everyone has that much of an influence on the world, or was George just like special or something?" she wondered aloud, breaking the silence.

"He seemed overly important to me, for just a normal guy with a normal job," Buffy replied. "Besides, there's probably plenty of people out there that the world really would be better without, despite the peppy message of the movie." Spike and Giles both glanced at her as she spoke, worry on their faces, and Buffy quickly spoke again. "Like that cranky woman that used to live down the street from us in L.A. Do you remember her, Dawn?"

"Ugh. Mrs. Thompson? Yes. That woman was pure evil. If we even breathed on her lawn, she'd totally lose it."

"Honestly, the idea of a whole city going to hell just because one person isn't there is a little over the top if you ask me," Buffy said.

"It was exaggerated to emphasize the importance of every life," Spike said, squeezing Buffy's hand. "People go about making a difference in the world every day without ever knowing it."

Buffy squeezed his hand back. "Don't worry. Fighting with my mother didn't send me into a self-destructive tailspin where I'm going to go back to being all depressed and suicidal. I mean, I haven't actually been suicidal in years. Depressed, sure, but I had at least a small bit of the will to live left." Dawn and Giles both looked over at her at that, and Buffy looked back at them. "What?"

"It's just that you haven't spoken that conversationally about any of that, well, ever," Giles said. "When you came home from the, er, hospital, you retreated and wouldn't mention anything about it."

"I'm dealing with it better, I guess," Buffy said. "My life's taken a definite upturn in recent months." She smiled brightly, wrapping her arm around Spike's.

Spike responded by stopping for a second to kiss the top of her head, and Giles smiled slightly at the display. Despite factors in their relationship that made him squirm, Rupert could clearly see how good Buffy and Spike were for each other. He'd told her that she'd brought happiness back to his son, but she'd done the same for him as well. The Buffy who had left three years before for New York had been depressed and withdrawn, and Giles had worried more than once that she might make a repeat attempt at suicide once she was on her own. But now, while some of her guilt and heartache over Angel's death surely remained, she was certainly brighter than she had been before, reminding him much more of the girl he'd once known before tragedy had darkened her life.

He wished that Joyce could see that, could realize how happy Buffy was in the life she'd chosen for herself, and accept it. Giles had learned as he watched Spike take up with Drusilla that you couldn't control your children. The life you wanted for them was rarely the life they themselves chose, and if you tried to force them to bend to your will, all you would do was lose them. He'd spent years with his own son as a virtual stranger in his life, and now that he had him back, he'd vowed that he'd never allow that to happen again. If William was content with his life, then Giles would be, too—especially if it seemed to be having such a positive influence on him.

And it was a positive influence. That much was clear. The circumstances that had brought Buffy and Spike together may not have been the sort many people would be comfortable with, but Giles was willing to just be grateful for what it had brought. Love was too important, too powerful, to walk away from. Having lost it too many times in the past himself, Giles had come to believe that people should take love where they could find it, life being too short to throw it away.

Maybe someday his wife would understand that as well.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 22:

The house was quiet when they came back, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief that her mother wasn't waiting at the door to start things up again. Her car was in the driveway, so she was obviously still there, but she had retreated somewhere in the house, leaving it quiet and peaceful, the only light that which was coming from the Christmas tree.

"Hey, Buffy, it's Christmas Eve."

Buffy turned towards her sister when she spoke, almost asking Dawn what she meant when she remembered and a small smile crossed her face. "And it's getting late, too. We better hurry." The Summers girls took off in a run, ignore Giles' almost-instinctive rebuke at their actions.

"Where are they off to?" Spike asked.

"The kitchen. They used to bake cookies for Santa every year and decorate them. Horrible monstrosities, really, and they usually ended up having more frosting on themselves than the actual cookies—which let me tell you, was quite a feat, considering the amount they used there—but they always had fun."

Spike chuckled. "Hope they have fun this year, too. Buffy needs it."

"Yes, she does," Giles agreed. He paused for a moment, clearing his throat. "You're quite taken with her, aren't you?"

"I love her, Da. Completely."

"I know," Giles said. "Son, I want you to know that no matter the circumstances involved in how the two of you came together, I'm happy that you are. You've brought some much-needed happiness into each other's lives, and that's something I'm grateful for."

"I appreciate that," Spike replied. "Means a lot, coming from you."

Giles placed his hand on Spike's shoulder. "And I also want you to know that, well, that I'm proud of you. No matter what's gone on between us in the past or what might transpire in the future, you've grown into a very fine young man."

Spike was startled a little at that, words of encouragement from his father being few and far between in recent years. "Thanks. I…I never wanted to be a disappointment."

"You never were," Giles assured him. "Granted, I was worried about you for a while there, and I did wish that you'd find something better for yourself than Drusilla and her lot, but you were never a disappointment. You're my son, and I love you."

"I love you, too, Da." A long silence followed the confession until Spike broke it. "So, um, are we supposed to hug or something now?"

"We're British and we're men. We don't hug," Giles replied.

"Right," Spike agreed with a nod.

They stood apart from each other for a moment before Giles stepped forward, embracing his son. The hug was quick and awkward, but the emotions were there, and Giles almost breathed a sigh of relief just knowing that his son did care.

Giles removed his glasses, giving them a quick polishing before replacing them. "As much as I don't want to, I should probably go upstairs and check in on Joyce."

"Best of luck with that," Spike said. "I'm going to stay down here, where it's at least relatively safe."

Giles shot Spike a look before taking a deep breath and trudging up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with his wife, shutting the door behind him.

Spike went into the living room, stopping when he reached the tree. He smiled when he saw a gingerbread man-shaped ornament with a small picture on its belly of a much younger Buffy sitting on Santa's lap, her blonde hair gathered up in pigtails. He surprised himself with a sudden thought of what their own children could look like, imagining a tiny combination of Buffy and himself looking back at him.

What really surprised him the most was how okay he was with that thought. He didn't want kids any time soon. He knew he wasn't ready to be a father, and he doubted Buffy was ready for children either, especially since she was still in school, but he could see it happening someday, could see himself settling down with Buffy and starting a family. He'd loved Drusilla, but he'd never really wanted that sort of thing with her, instead just thinking only about one moment to the next, living for the day. With Buffy, he wanted everything, the whole package. For the first time in his life, growing old with someone was really something he could look forward to.

The silence in the living room was broken by giggles and squeals in the kitchen, Buffy and Dawn obviously enjoying their cookie-baking activities. He loved hearing Buffy so happy, even in the face of what her mother was putting her through. She deserved to smile and laugh. His girl had spent enough time suffering already.

Spike knew his father had been right when he'd said he and Buffy were happier together. He'd noticed the spark that had been stuck back up inside Buffy since they'd fallen in love, but he'd been astute enough to notice it in himself, too. Before, he'd only been able to find any sort of solace in a nameless woman or too much to drink, and then it had been empty, something that merely distracted him until the morning when he woke up feeling worse than he'd felt the night before. His plan of get up, get out, get drunk, repeat as needed had only gotten him so far. Beyond that it had all been misery and self-loathing.

And then there had been Buffy. They'd both been sinking in despair, yet they'd somehow manage to become bright spots in each other's lives, getting each other through the pain to a place Spike hadn't ever thought he could be.

"Ah! Not my hair! Oh, now you're in for it!"

Buffy's cry from the kitchen followed by a scream from Dawn stopped Spike's train of thought. He went into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of both girls smeared in green and red frosting. They looked sharply at him when he came in, their eyes widening as they were caught. Buffy and Dawn both pointed to each other, their accusations of "she started it" coming in unison.

Spike kept a straight face for only a moment before he began to laugh, the sight too comical for anything else. "I think that's supposed to go on the cookies," he said.

"They're not finished baking yet," Buffy said with a pout, as if that explained everything.

"You are just too bloody adorable," Spike said, walking over to her. He leaned in a licked a bit of frosting off her nose. "Makes you even sweeter than usual."

"Ugh, gag me," Dawn said from beside them, rolling her eyes in true teenager fashion. "You two are so lame."

"You just wait until you're in love," Spike said, wagging his finger. "You'll be 'lame,' too."

"What on earth happened in here?" Giles asked, coming into the kitchen. "You two look a mess."

"Frosting fight," Dawn said. "Buffy totally started it."

"I did not!" Buffy protested. "It was Dawn."

Giles tried to look stern, but ended up just shaking his head, chuckling softly. "Just make sure it's clean before your mother wakes up. She'll throw a bloody fit."

"She's asleep, huh," Buffy said. "Let me guess, curled up with the empty bottle beside her?"

Giles sighed. "Buffy, your mother…"

"Giles, I lived with her for eighteen years. I know the drill. Mom yells and then she drinks," Buffy said, cutting him off. "Or sometimes she does them together. Either way, there's yelling and there's drinking."

"At least she's asleep now," Dawn said. "She can't yell if she's asleep."

"Yes, well, I suppose that is something to be grateful for," Giles replied, polishing his glasses yet again.

The kitchen was silent for a moment before the timer on the oven went off. "Cookies are done," Buffy said quickly, grabbing an oven mitt before pulling them out. "Now they just have to cool."

"Did you save any frosting for the cookies themselves?" Spike asked with a smirk.

Buffy turned, waving her oven-mitt-clad hand at him. "Yes, we did. And you watch your mouth, mister, or that hair of yours is going to be red and green. Bet it would show up real well with that white."

"Oh, don't you even think about it," Spike warned.

"Or what?" Buffy asked, crossing her arms and sticking out her tongue.

"Something so horrible I haven't come up with it yet," Spike replied.

"I think you're all talk," Buffy replied.

Spike rushed her then, grabbing her around the waist and tickling her, making her screech. Dawn covered her mouth to hide her giggles, and Giles just shook his head, clucking softly. They really were quite a pair.

*** *** ***

"Those are the ugliest cookies I have ever seen," Spike said, looking down at the plate sitting on a table beside the tree.

"Hey! They're…creative," Buffy said, elbowing him.

"They're deformed. What, are you trying to get Santa's sympathy by making him think there's something wrong with you so you'll get more presents?"

"Oh ha, ha," Buffy replied. "No."

"What the hell is that one supposed to be? It looks like a green blob covered with freakish red eyes. Is it some sort of Christmas demon?"

"It's a tree!" Buffy exclaimed. "Those are ornaments, not eyes!"

"If you say so, luv," Spike said, kissing the top of her head.

"Well, poor Giles has to eat them. It's part of the tradition. He says they send him into hyperglycemic shock."

"So my da's St. Nick, huh?" Spike said with a chuckle. "Guess he must save up all his jolly for once a year."

"Giles can be jolly. When he's not being stern librarian guy, anyway," Buffy said.

The clock struck midnight then, and Spike turned Buffy in his arms, smiling down at her. "Happy Christmas, luv."

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

"I said Happy Christmas," Spike pointed out.

"And I said Merry Christmas," Buffy replied, sticking her chin out definitely.

"Which makes you wrong," Spike teased.

"Nu-uh. You English types just don't know how to speak proper…"

"English?"

"American."

"American's not a language. We've had this discussion."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're still wrong."

"There you go, pouting at me again," Spike said, leaning in and nipping at her bottom lip. "You know what that does to me."

"Why do you think I do it?"

"Oh, you're just evil, missy," Spike replied. "Might have to just take this back and not give it to you now like I was plannin'." He pulled back and took a present from under the tree.

"You're giving me something now?"

"I might," Spike said with a wink. "Wanted to give it to you when it was just the two of us."

"Oh." Buffy frowned. "It's not something kinky, is it?"

"No, it's not kinky," Spike replied. He handed her the present. "Here, just open it."

Buffy pulled away from Spike and sat down on the couch, unwrapping the box, then lifting off the top, gasping at the sight of a ring nestled in tissue paper. It was an oval-cut emerald with diamond accents on either side, set in gold. She lifted it out, noting on closer examination that it looked to be an antique. "Spike…it's beautiful."

"It was my mum's," he said, his hands thrust in his pockets. "Been in the family for years. She…she gave it to me shortly before she died. Told me to hold on to it until I found a woman I really loved to give it to."

Buffy's eyes teared. "Thank you," she said softly.

Spike sat down beside her. "I think Mum would've wanted you to have it," he said. "She would've liked you, Buffy."

"I think I would've liked her, too."

Spike watched as Buffy turned the ring over a few times before he reached out slightly. "Want me to put it on you?"

Buffy nodded, handing him the ring. Spike took her left hand, slipping the ring on to her finger. "Until I can put something else there," he said, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing the emerald.

"Planning on doing that, are you?"

"Someday," Spike replied with a wink. "You're going to have to make do with the emerald for now, though."

"I think I can do that," Buffy said with a smile. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Spike lifted her up so she was sitting in his lap, and Buffy rested her head against his chest, happy just to be where she was.

"This has been a good day," she said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Oh yeah?" Spike asked, his scarred eyebrow arching.

"Yeah. I mean, sure, Mom was a total bitch and we had that little spat this morning, but overall, it's been good. I like getting to spend time with Dawn and Giles, and hey, how can a day that ends with us being all snuggly be bad?"

Spike chuckled, the sound traveling through Buffy's body. "Don't know, pet. It's certainly my favorite way to end a day."

"So let's just stay like this forever then," Buffy said, her eyes sliding closed.

Spike kissed her forehead, his arms tightening around her. "You won't get any complaints from me."

*** *** ***