Silver Bells
"Why do we have to do Christmas with them again?" Anya asked. The heels she wore were making it fairly hard to get across the path to the door, so she was walking slowly, each step a separate distinct click.
That did not, of course, have anything to do with not wanting to be there. Of course not. That would be wrong.
"An. Please," Xander said. "They're my friends."
"But they're boring!" The snowflakes hit the cobblestones and melted instantly, just fast enough to notice them before they disappeared. They made the path slippery and hard to maneuver.
"Got to agree with Anya on that one," Spike said. It was just dark enough for him to be out, and he didn't seem pleased to have made the trip. "If I wanted to be exposed to a bunch of wankers who sing off-key and attach symbolic value to plants and religious figures? I'd just track down Drusilla again."
Anya snorted. "No you wouldn't. You'd much rather suffer through one meal with them, and then have lots of sex with both of us tonight. You didn't have that with Drusilla."
"I did have Darla around, you know," Spike pointed out.
She rolled her eyes. "That's nice, Spike."
"And Angel!"
"Okay, and we're stopping," Xander said.
"What, you don't want to hear about the time that Angel, Dru, and I-"
"Do you want to see me weep?" demanded Xander.
"You are quite attractive when you cry," Anya observed.
Xander grew serious. "Guys. Please. I don't really want to be here any more than either of you do. But Willow's never hosted a Christmas party before. She really wants it to be special, and we need to be here for her."
"Isn't she Jewish?" Spike asked.
"Well, yeah. But she's always wanted to do this, and Buffy's mom said that we could use their house, and Dawnie's all excited, and-"
"Whatever," Anya said. "Let's get this over with."
"Right," Spike said, and he rang the doorbell.
They stood awkwardly, waiting around, not quite sure what to do as they all heard Dawn running around and yelling about how someone was here, someone was here, Willow, what was she supposed to do, was it ready yet, Willow!
"I remember when we used to eat children," Anya murmured.
"Amen," Spike said.
"Guys!" Xander said. "This is Dawn. Dawnie. Our Dawnie. Buffy's little sister."
"Children should be kept in cages until they're old enough to change their own diapers and have sex."
Xander sighed. "Thank you for that, An."
"I do try." She smiled brightly. "Do you think Buffy would agree with me?"
"Somehow I doubt she'd be willing to sacrifice her sister to several years of bondage which only let up when puberty's over."
>From inside, they could hear Buffy screaming, something about Dawn using her expensive perfume and spilling it in the bathroom and...
"You sure about that, Harris?" Spike asked, striking a match against the wall and lighting his cigarette.
"A lesser man would admit defeat right now," Xander proclaimed. "But I? I am Xander. I concede nothing."
"Yeah, you're just hoping the idea of bondage is kept alive," said Spike with a slight grin.
"You do have handcuffs," Anya reminded him. "And an occasionally psychotic temperament."
"That sounds like love!"
The three of them turned in unison to the face smiling at them from inside the door. "Come on in! Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Willow," Xander said, eyeing her as though he expected her to turn into a giant flock of bats and devour him whole, mostly because that would have been more normal than seeing his nice little Jewish friend wearing a bright red and green sweater and carrying a tiny baby Jesus ornament.
"Look!" Willow trilled. "Mistletoe!"
"Did you happen to get very very drunk today?" Anya asked her politely.
"Baby, step away from the mistletoe," Tara called.
"But-"
"Willow, sweetie, you know that thing I bought for the thing? For Christmas?"
Willow's eyes glazed over for a second. Then she nodded.
"Okay. Leave the nice people alone, and you'll get to play later, okay?"
Willow pouted, but eased off. Anya brightened considerably. "Look! Mistletoe!"
Obediently, Xander kissed her. Then Spike kissed her. Then Xander kissed Spike.
She smiled. Christmas was in many ways a wonderful holiday.
"Is it time for presents yet?" she asked Willow.
"Presents go under the tree," Willow replied. "And then we make gingerbread houses and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas and Xander does the Snoopy dance and we eat sugar cookies and then we do presents."
"You do the Snoopy dance?" Spike snorted. "I'm sleeping with a man who does the Snoopy dance? My reputation is never going to recover."
"The reputation of a man who proudly informs people that he can taste the difference between a Hippie and a Yuppie? I think I'll pass."
"This from someone who owns Spiderman underwear."
"I'll have you know they're trendy. Besides, at least I haven't memorized the choreography to an N*Sync song."
Spike glared. "You know, that was going to be a secret between us."
Anya turned to Willow. "For the love of whatever goddess you lesbian-type people are worshipping this week, let the presents happen now."
Willow pouted. "You're ruining my plans."
"Let it go, Will," Buffy said, walking down the stairs. She noticed the three additional houseguests. "Hi, Xan. Hi, Spike. Hi, Anya." Then she turned back to Willow. "We like presents. We can do the gingerbread house later. Plus? We're building anticipation. And we can listen to Christmas carols while we do this part."
After a few more bribes, Willow acquiesced, and they all gathered in the living room. With Judy Garland caterwauling on the stereo, they arranged themselves on the couch and floor to hand out presents. Willow sat by the tree, giddily tossing presents to people one at a time. Soon each of them sat by a small mountain of gifts, some of which had been carefully chosen, others of which just made the giver and receiver giggle. Everyone was relaxing and, in Xander's and Dawn's case, playing with their new Lego sets, when Anya interrupted abruptly.
"I just counted! Everyone else has more gifts than I do! I'm sleeping with more people than anyone else in this room; I deserve more presents!"
"That's cause I haven't given you my gift yet," Xander said.
"Me neither," Spike said.
"Well? What are you waiting for? It's gift-giving time, and I want my shiny things!"
Spike and Xander exchanged a quick glance. "Can I go first?" Xander asked.
"Sure."
Xander swallowed thickly. "An, we've known each other for... well, not a really long time, actually. And if you're looking at the time when you were a demon trying to kill all of mankind and I was just a guy in Sunnydale, you have nearly nothing in common with me."
"This is not a very happy gifting," Anya said.
"I'm getting there."
"Try getting there faster."
"Right." Xander gulped again. "Anya, I can't believe how close we've gotten. And you're beautiful, and talented, and smart, and amazing, and I- I- I love you." He handed her a small wrapped box.
She tore the paper open and left it shredded in front of her as she opened the box carefully. "A bracelet," she whispered.
"It's engraved," Xander said. "For you. From me."
She sniffled. "I'm- this is all new to me! I hated men, but I've never felt so... I... you're..." Anya smiled. "I love you too."
"Enough with this mushy stuff," Spike said disgustedly. "My gift."
"Yes!" Anya agreed quickly. "More presents for me. Good."
He passed her an envelope silently. She opened it almost reverently. "I recognize the smell," she said suddenly.
"What is it?" Dawn asked. "Perfume?"
Buffy kicked her.
"Better than perfume," Anya said. "Money."
She held up the thick stack of bills. "What did you do, Spike? Rob a bank?" Now the tears were running freely. "For me?"
"Well, they're all singles," Spike said. "But there are a few boxes of them back at our place."
"You don't- you-"
"Yes. I did."
"My dream!" Anya was bawling now. "Oh my god, you remembered my dream!"
"Her dream?" Dawn repeated. "What's going on? What's her dream? Is this another sex thing?"
"Ew," Tara said. "I hope not."
"Anya wanted to be able to jump in a pile of money," Spike explained.
"I showed her an episode of Ducktales, and it was all downhill from there," Xander added. "Scrooge McDuck is her idol."
"He's a very smart man!" Anya exclaimed. "Money is tactile and beautiful! Oh, Spike, this is... it's wonderful!"
"Merry Christmas, Anya," Spike said softly.
"Merry Christmas," Xander echoed.
Anya smiled through her tears. "Merry Christmas."