Chapter 1

Dawn was sitting at the research table idly flipping through some of the reference books thrown about the top of it. It was the beginning of December and Anya and Giles had been arguing about what traditions they should observe for the coming Solstice season. There had been a lot of bickering where Anya insisted that they should just allow for all of them, and Giles had huffed saying it was preposterous to do such preparation. It had all ended when Buffy and Dawn came in and Giles insisted on training.

Suddenly her attention focused on a picture of a young woman with a wreath full of lit candles on her head. She appeared to be wearing an older style white nightgown, complete with an embroidered collar. Below the picture read Modern interpretation of Saint Lucia festivities. Dawn sat up a little straighter and started reading the short passage that followed.

“Hey, Lucia,” Anya butted in over her shoulder. “That’s mine you know. I started that whole thing.”

“What?” Dawn’s irritation faded at being interrupted at Anya’s comment.

“Lucia. The Italian girl. What a vengeance case that was!” Anya said, her eyes lighting up in that creepy way that they did whenever there had been a lot of bloodshed involved.

“It says it’s a Swedish tradition in this book,” Dawn said, confused.

“Well, yeah. That was all part of the wish you see. For her to live on after she was killed. She wanted to live on forever. I couldn’t do anything about those Italians, they were very stubborn. But the Vikings jumped on the tradition right away. They were funny that way.” Anya explained flippantly, though offering little detail. It only served to confuse Dawn more.

“What are you talking about, Anya?” Dawn asked, getting more frustrated because it said nothing about Lucia being Italian in the blurb from the book. Just that it was a solstice celebration on the darkest night of the Scandinavian winter and girls dressed up and put candles in their hair. And something about the Nobel Feast and the king of Sweden, but Dawn hadn’t paid attention to that part.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Anya sighed. “Lucia was a girl who called me as she was being burned at the stake. So naturally, I made time go really REALLY slowly so she could tell me her story. She wasn’t accused of being a witch, so I was intrigued. I mean, witch burnings were another thing. Pretty common for a while. I can’t tell you how many falsely accused women I helped who weren’t witches.”

“Anya!”

“Fine, Ms. I Want To Know Everything Now. So, Lucia is there, burning to a crisp, and she tells me that her father wanted her to marry a very rich man and had given her a dowry with lots and lots of monetary value, especially in today’s market. I never could figure out why she didn’t want to keep all that money, even if she had to marry a boring husband. She could always find some stable boy to provide her good orgasms.” Anya paused, and seemed engrossed in the possibilities.

“Anya, can you please tell your story,” Dawn snapped her fingers in front of the ex-demon’s face.

“Okay, okay. Well Lucia was very beautiful, she had sworn to die a virgin, was a good Christian and all that. She had given up her dowry to feed the poor and helped Christians hiding away in the mountains from the Romans. Now this wealthy potential husband decided to report her to the Roman government and they ordered her to be burned at the stake. The Romans always loved burning people at the stake,” Anya was about to start another tangent, but at Dawn’s irritated huff she continued on. “So that’s where I came in. I asked Lucia what she wanted and she said that she didn’t mind dying to help others, but she didn’t want her message to die with her. She wanted people to keep giving their own hard earned money away to people who didn’t have any. I never understood it, but hey, so basically I made sure that her story lives on. Mainly in Sweden and Denmark where they make the prettiest girls Lucia and all the uglier ones her attendants during the festival. They sing, bring baked goods and coffee to people early in the morning, and bring light into the darkest winter nights.” Anya finished with a flourish.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool. But Lucia died at the stake then?” Dawn asked.

“No, she was stabbed through the throat with a sword. That’s what the red band the Lucia wears is supposed to be. The blood,” Anya looked down at the picture in front of her.

“Oh. But why do the Scandinavians celebrate her if she was Italian?” Dawn wrinkled her nose up in question.

“Who knows? I sent a bunch of monks out with the message. I was a vengeance demon after all. I wasn’t about to spread the message of peace and goodness too far. I guess they were the ones who liked it. It is very dark there in the winter,” Anya flipped through another book that she had found on the table. “Here, see. There’s more for you to read about.”

Dawn glanced at the open page which revealed not only how the tradition was celebrated, but also what treats to bake and translations of all the songs. Anya had been distracted by a potential customer, leaving Dawn to read all of the details on her own. It looked pretty interesting. A wreath with candles on the Lucia’s head looked easy to make, and all they would need were nightgowns…

“Whatcha lookin’ at Dawn?” Buffy’s voice startled her out of her reading.

“Saint Lucia Day. It’s a Solstice celebration they do in Scandinavia,” Dawn answered, eyes still glued to the page in front of her.

“Ahh, a beautiful tradition indeed,” Giles added, having come up behind Buffy. “They wake all the Nobel prize winners on the morning of December 13th in the Lucia manner. Scares some of them half to death, mind you.”

Buffy looked at the picture of the Lucia in the book, “What’s with all the candles?”

“To light the way in the darkest of times, I believe,” Giles answered.

“Hey, that’s what I said!” Anya had finished helping the customer and fixed her decidedly fake smile on Giles.

“Indeed,” Giles sat down at the table, exhausted from his sparring session with Buffy who had settled down in a chair near Dawn and begun whittling new stakes.

“I want to do this,” Dawn piped up after a few minutes silence.

“What?” Buffy asked, her attention had been focused on other things.

“I wanna do a Lucia celebration,” Dawn said pointedly looking at her sister as if daring her to deny her.

“Why Dawn? You only heard about it today,” Buffy started.

“Because, Buffy, I want us to do something fun. I’m sick of you moping around. Besides, it’ll be like our Solstice celebration since we have Christmas,” Dawn turned up her pathetic-lost-puppy-eyed look to its maximum.

“I don’t know Dawn,” Buffy didn’t know how to respond. She certainly wasn’t about to do some crazy celebration she’d never heard of, right before Christmas without Mom.

“I’ll help!” Three pairs of disbelieving eyes turned to where Anya was dusting merchandise nearby.

“What?” Buffy chocked out through her shock.

“I’ll help. It’ll be fun. I mean, I haven’t even participated in the tradition before which is strange because I started it,” Anya finished proudly.

“How on earth are you responsible for the Saint Lucia tradition?” Giles asked while pinching his nose. He knew he probably wouldn’t want to hear the explanation but would be regaled with the tale nonetheless.

As Anya launched into an even more elaborate explanation of how she was responsible, Dawn turned to Buffy, hoping to persuade her.

“C’mon Buffy, it’ll be fun. We can bake and make coffee and dress up. It’ll be like Halloween but with the potential of running into monsters if we’re out early,” Dawn said cheekily.

Buffy wanted to resist, but she hadn’t really been spending a lot of time with her sister lately, and it was getting close to Christmas. They would both miss Mom even more soon and maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing they could do. Dawn would probably sleep through the early wakeup call anyways so there was even a chance of it not happening at all.

“Okay, Dawnie. Who do you want to go to?” Buffy asked after reading over the passage in the book.

“Well, Tara and Willow of course, Giles, Xander, and Spike!” Dawn finished with a smirk.

“Why Spike? He’ll only be snarky with us,” Buffy cringed at the thought of what Spike would say when he saw them singing and clad in nightgowns.

“No he wouldn’t. He’d love it!” Dawn smiled hopefully.

“I really don’t know about this Dawnie,” Buffy looked at her sister’s hopeful expression. What the hell, she figured if she didn’t disagree outright, she may still be able to avoid going out later.

“It’ll be so much fun! I can’t wait to go out and find everything. Maybe Janice will want to come, but then I’d have to explain why we’re visiting a crypt…” Dawn trailed off, happily engrossed in her planning. Buffy meanwhile was debating how smart her choice was to go along with the scheme.

Chapter 2


A couple of days after the decision had been made to celebrate Lucia, Dawn, Buffy and Tara were standing in the kitchen at Revello Drive, contemplating a list of baking instructions. The recipe was for some traditional saffron buns which were to be the highlight of the Lucia goody tray.

“Dawn, you know me and baking are very un-mixy things. I think I should go help Willow and Anya make the wreath instead,” Buffy said while Tara pulled bowls and ingredients out of the cupboards.

“You tried that remember? You burnt yourself on the candle because you insisted on lighting them to see if the wax really did go into the little holes in the center of the candle,” Dawn huffed as she meticulously checked each item off the ingredients list and measured out the quantities.

“Well, I wanted to see if the wax really went into the little holes. You’re the one who insisted I should be Lucia. I need to know that I’m not gonna get wax all over my face,” Buffy walked around the counter to perch on one of the stools, happy to observe rather than participate.

“You insisted on being Lucia and Anya agreed. She said you were the only blonde, and I was too young. Not that you’re really blonde,” Dawn said with a trace of bitterness. Dawn didn’t care about being a ‘maid’ instead of the head of the procession. If her plan worked, it would allow Buffy to finally get that nudge towards Spike that was totally needed. They were made for each other, Dawn and Tara both knew it, and this may just be the perfect way of getting them to finally realize it.

“Yeah, whatever,” Buffy said, focused on watching Tara as she quietly sifted flour into a bowl.

“It’ll be fun, Buffy. You’ll see,” Tara smiled at Buffy who rolled her eyes in response.

“I’m going to check on what Willow and Anya are doing.” Buffy hopped down from her perch and proceeded into the dining room where the two women were preparing the wreaths and candles needed. Tara had already acquired the necessary nightgowns and red ribbons and had sewed beautiful embroidered collars onto each of them.

Willow and Anya were busy discussing the best way to attach the wreath to the steel frame of the Lucia crown which Anya apparently found somewhere in the various boxes at the Magic Shop.

“You’re supposed to tie it on with thread, not ugly white sting you use for chickens,” Anya stated bluntly. She watched as Willow tied the greenery using the aforementioned kitchen string. “You’re not supposed to see it!”

“Well the thread kept breaking!” Willow cried, clearly frustrated by her efforts.

“Let me do it,” Anya huffed and took the crown away from Willow, untying all her hard work in seconds. As she started retying the wreath, Willow looked up and acknowledged Buffy’s arrival.

“How’s the baking going?” She asked when Buffy sat down.

“Oh, you know, it’s going. Buffy’s not allowed in the kitchen either. Maybe I’ll go slay something,” Buffy said, thinking aloud.

“It’s not even dark yet,” Willow said gently, starting work on decorating the candles.

“I know,” Buffy said glumly. “I just can’t help any of you. I’m all banned-Buffy. Not allowed to do anything.”

Willow smiled sympathetically, but wasn’t about to offer her anything to do. It was too much of a risk allowing Buffy near any of the preparations. Instead, she waited for Buffy to get bored and go back into the kitchen. At least she could get a treat there to keep her occupied.

Sure enough, Buffy soon left the pair in the dining room and went back into the kitchen. Dawn had moved on to the gingerbread cookies that were also supposed to feature on the goody tray.

“So, I thought we’d practice the songs once these are in the oven,” Dawn looked up at Buffy from where she was cutting out various shapes in the dough.

“I’m not singing,” Buffy remarked flatly.

“Yes, you are,” Dawn said matter-of-factly, standing straighter in preparation for facing off against the Slayer. “You have to sing. We all do.”

“Well, I’m not singing,” Buffy replied, eyes flashing with determination.

“Yes, you are,” Dawn replied crossing her flour covered hands across her chest.

“No,” Buffy whined. “I don’t wanna!” she continued sounding like a spoiled child.

“Buffy, it’s a part of the whole thing. You agreed to do it and you have to sing,” Dawn chastised with her own version of Willow’s resolve face. She glared at her sister, waiting for Buffy’s resolve to crumble.

“I-it is a b-big p-part of it, Buffy,” Tara said gently, looking up from her own work. “And you have a beautiful voice,” she finished with a soft smile.

Buffy grumbled something under her breath, looking down at her hands. Dawn looked over at Tara and smiled. Tara’s nature tended to yield itself to persuasion mainly because she was so difficult to resist. No one wanted to disappoint the benevolent blonde witch.

“Fine,” Buffy said finally. “I’ll sing if it’ll make you all happy.” Tara smiled at Buffy looked up at her again. Buffy knew then she was fighting a losing battle and decided she was better off watching TV and sulking in the other room.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


It didn’t take long for the baked goods to be ready for the oven and Anya and Willow had finished up the last of the costume preparations. Dawn led the group in a song rehearsal, having found the translation from a traditional Swedish song into English on the internet. Buffy grumbled at the beginning but when she was allowed to choose which English Christmas carol they would sing in addition to the Lucia song, her mood picked up again.

When they had practiced long enough for Dawn’s liking, after short pauses to switch trays in the oven, the whole house smelled like saffron and gingerbread. Buffy couldn’t find any more reasons to complain and actually felt like she was enjoying herself. It had been a while since she’d felt this lighthearted. Further arrangements were made with Anya who had to leave to return to the Magic Box. Anya offered to drive the girls to Giles’ house after starting in the Summers’ residence with Willow and Tara.

“I have to go check something with Janice. Is that okay, Buffy?” Dawn asked as Anya prepared to leave.

“Sure, just be back before dark,” Buffy said absently, trying to sneak off into the kitchen for some freshly baked goodies.

“Thanks! I promise I will be,” Dawn smiled and raced out the door. She hurried across town to Restfield cemetery. So lying about going to Janice’s wasn’t really something that would get her on Santa’s ‘nice’ list, but she had an important matter to attend to.

When she reached Spike’s crypt she knocked loudly before cracking the door open. She was sure he’d be up already getting ready to watch Passions.

“Hello, bit,” Spike said from his seat on the sofa. Predictable as always, Dawn smiled to herself.

“Hi Spike!” she greeted happily and collapsed beside him on the sofa. “Whatcha doing? Getting ready for Passions?”

“Yeah,” Spike replied suspiciously. Dawn was a bit too chipper to be here for a casual visit. “So what brings you to the Big Bad’s crypt in the late afternoon?”

Dawn scoffed at the mention of ‘Big Bad’ eliciting a low growl from the vampire. “Oh, nothing,” Dawn replied. “Are you going to be home tomorrow morning? Early?”

“What’ve you got planned, nibblet?” Spike asked, glancing in her direction. Now he knew he had a reason to be suspicious.

“Just answer the question, Spike,” Dawn looked over at him, daring him to do anything else.

“Well I don’ know. I had some evil plan cooked up. I may need incentive to stay on the path to goodness,” Spike winked at her and waited to see if his ploy would work.

“I’m not telling you anything, so don’t even try it, mister,” Dawn grinned at him, knowing he hated being out of the know. “Just be home tomorrow morning, early, while it’s still dark. I guess that’s really today for you huh?”

“Leave a vamp hanging why don’t you?” Spike returned her grin, curious what she had planned. A thought struck him, “This isn’t some teenage rebellion that will get me another broken nose is it? Cuz I’m not coverin’ for ya with your sis.”

Rolling her eyes at his panicked expression, Dawn said, “No, she’s in on it.”

“Oh really?” Spike’s mouth curled up in a smile. Now he was definitely intrigued.

“Yep, and pretend to be in bed too,” Dawn said, blushing deeply after realizing the potential innuendo. “Not in that way! It’s just we’re supposed to be waking people up and you have the whole backwards sleeping thing… Just do as I say,” she finished glaring at him when he laughed at her.

“Sendin’ your sister to me gift wrapped?” Spike couldn’t resist teasing Dawn further.

“Eww! Gross Spike. I’m so not thinking about you and her and anything, yuck!” Dawn hopped back up to her feet, knowing she had to hurry home. “So, we have a deal?”

“Sure, bit. I’ll be here, tucked away in bed like a good lil’ vamp,” Spike said. Dawn smiled and rushed off into the fading light. Spike sat back wondering what on earth was going on. If Buffy was involved in the whole thing, he supposed it couldn’t be that bad, maybe he’d try to catch up with her on patrol and see if he could get it out of her. As Passions flashed onto his muted screen, he sat back and hoped this night would bring him some answers.

Chapter 3


Spike threw on his duster and walked out into the night. He knew Buffy would be out by now, but she hadn’t stopped by earlier to see if he wanted to patrol with her. Now he was certain Bit was telling the truth and Buffy was involved in the plan. She was avoiding him.

Sensing she was nearby, he extended his senses, hearing a scuffle in the distance. He started off in the direction of the noise slowly until he heard Buffy’s cry of duress. He took off running and soon came up to the clearing where Buffy was facing a group of five fledglings.

“That wasn’t nice, you don’t attack from behind. If you were anymore organized I swear you guys were unionizing,” Buffy quipped nervously, after flipping back onto her feet. She sensed Spike nearby and shot a glance in his direction, relieved at his presence.

“Fancy some help, Slayer?” Spike asked as he approached, the fledgling vamps distracted by another vampire’s presence. They could sense power around him, but couldn’t understand why he was talking amicably with the Slayer. Buffy made use of the situation to ready herself for the next attack and sneak closer to Spike so he could watch her back.

“Leave us alone, grandpa,” one of the cockier vamps sneered at Spike as he approached.

“Grandpa?” Spike raised a questioning brow at the group. Seeing that Buffy was up on her feet and ready to strike, Spike smiled dangerously.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you to respect your elders, boy?” he growled, channeling Angelus, as he staked the disrespectful young fledge. The fight started up again with vigor, Buffy immediately launching into action. She faced off against two of the fledglings, allowing Spike to take the remaining ones.

Buffy and Spike danced through the intricate fight, moving as if synchronized through motion. Buffy dusted her first vamp with a happy laugh and started on her second. Spike’s second slay quickly followed leaving only two vamps standing.

“Well that turned out to be easier than I thought,” Buffy sent Spike the go ahead look and they both plunged their stakes into their respective vampires.

“That’ll show ‘em I’m no grandpa,” Spike grumbled, glaring at Buffy when she giggled at him. “Don’t you laugh, missy. Vamps get better with age and I just saved your delectable arse.”

“I had it all under control. I was totally in-control-girl,” she teased, knowing she would have been in a bit of trouble if Spike hadn’t shown up when he did.

“You keep telling yourself that, Slayer,” Spike fell into easy step with Buffy as they continued on her rounds. He was itching to ask her what Dawn and her had planned, but didn’t want to reveal that he knew anything about it.

“So why didn’t you come get me, pet? I was hopin’ this was our new thing,” Spike asked after they finished up the Restfield patrol.

“Our thing?” Buffy raised a brow, glancing in his direction.

If Spike could have, he would have been blushing. “Well, you know, the Big Bad always lookin’ for a spot of violence. Made me feel left out…” he trailed off, a small pout gracing his lips.

“I’m sorry; did I hurt your widdle feelings?” Buffy teased, elbowing him lightly in the side. She was surprised that her deciding not to patrol with him this evening had hurt him, but she supposed it really had become their thing as of late.

“Nah, Slayer. Tough as nails I am. The Big Bad an’ all that rot,” Spike smiled over at her, mirth twinkling in his eyes. Buffy laughed genuinely at his antics, feeling at ease in his company. Since the whole reveal during their musical adventure, she’d been avoiding the others as much as possible. Spike was the only one who seemed to understand that she didn’t want to constantly think about the bad things, she had to find new things to enjoy in her third life so she could move forward.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


The couple patrolled two more cemeteries, only running into a couple more newly risen vamps that didn’t put up much of a fight. Spike was content to watch as Buffy fought each of them, admiring each fluid motion and well aimed kick. She was true poetry in motion. As they neared the end of the next cemetery, they finally ran into some real action: a large Fyarl demon.

As the two super powered blondes attacked the brutish demon, they picked up their intricate dance. When Spike went high, Buffy aimed low; they used each other’s strengths and weaknesses flawlessly. When Spike was thrown into a nearby tombstone, Buffy quickly attacked from behind, distracting the Fyarl and allowing Spike to get back on his feet. Buffy swiftly swept the demon’s feet from under him tossing Spike the silver dagger and he stabbed it through the heart in one fluid motion.

When the Fyarl demon was dead, Spike and Buffy shared identical happy grins. Buffy’s chest was heaving from the exertion of the fight, a fact that Spike quickly noticed. Her eyes were glowing with life, something he rarely saw since her return from the dead.

“That was fun!” Buffy said to Spike, not noticing his close scrutiny of her.

Her body still pumped adrenaline and she was anxious to keep fighting. She knew she had to get up too early for words tomorrow, but she couldn’t resist the call of her blood.

“Wanna spar?” Buffy’s question almost made his jaw drop. She had never offered to spar with him it was too sweet of an opportunity to resist.

“You’re on, Slayer. Let’s see what you’ve got,” he tucked his tongue behind his teeth and stepped easily into fighting stance. He figured the chip wouldn’t fire if there was no intent to harm her.

“Be prepared to loose, vampire!” the Slayer taunted playfully before leading with a right hook to Spike’s head.

Ducking easily, Spike advanced on Buffy punching, kicking, and blocking her attacks. They danced around each other, evenly matched in every way. When one started gaining ground, the other got a second wind and turned the tables. When Buffy snagged her foot on a root, she grabbed onto Spike’s duster lapels in an attempt to stay upright; however, the momentum brought them both over, Spike landing, rolling and finally coming to a stop on top of Buffy.

Due to their kiss outside the Bronze after the big song reveal, and the make-out session they had at the club after Willow’s botched forgetting spell, Buffy couldn’t help but lick her lips at the feel of Spike’s hard body over hers. Spike’s eyes flicked down to the movement around her lips, his eyes darkening with desire. Buffy lifted her head slightly in invitation and Spike jumped at the chance. Cool lips met hers and she sighed at the welcomed sensation.

As her lips parted, Spike slipped his tongue in to tangle with hers in another age-old dance. Buffy felt her body respond to his touch and ran her hands under his duster and over the hard planes of his chest and back. Her movements elicited a low growl from the vampire which made her own body hum in shared pleasure.

When Buffy had to break their kiss to suck in a deep breath, Spike continued placing soft, cool kisses along the smooth column of her throat.

A girl could get used to this, Buffy though, still dazed from his passionate kisses. When Spike managed to slip his hands under her shirt, it woke her abruptly from her musings. She started to struggle under him.

“Spike, get off me,” Buffy moaned when his kisses massaged the sensitive spot behind her ear.

“Sorry, luv,” Spike sighed deeply and looked into her eyes, attempting to understand the signals she was sending him. Her body clearly wanted one thing but her mind, as usual, struggled against it. Rather than fighting her and risking another broken nose, he reined in his temper and disappointment, and instead helped her stand, putting distance between them.

“I-I have to go,” Buffy stammered self-consciously, not used to Spike’s lack of argument.

“Sure, Slayer,” Spike said, not masking the disappointment in his voice.

“I have to get up early,” Buffy informed him, not sure why she was explaining anything at all to him.

“Right. You want me to sweep the last cemetery?” Spike asked, searching his pockets for his packet of smokes. His curiosity was back full force and he was eagerly anticipating Dawn’s surprise. As he lit a cigarette, Spike thought it was almost enough to quell his disappointment over Buffy’s freak out. Almost.

“Sure, thanks,” Buffy said, taking a step closer to him. When she placed a soft kiss on his cheek before abruptly turning around and running off in the direction of home, Spike smiled. Only a few more hours and he’d know what the nibblet had planned, and Buffy was in on it to boot. Whistling to himself, he walked off in the opposite direction, anticipating the coming dawn for the first time in 120 years.

Chapter 4


After a few restless hours of sleep, Buffy was startled awake by a small rock shattering her window. She was on her feet in seconds, stake at the ready, crawling towards the window to see who had thrown the missile. The sight below her almost made her laugh out loud.

Anya stood below the window grumbling to herself, a thick jacket thrown over her nightgown. She had glitter in her hair and shot deadly glances toward the window above her. Buffy immediately sneaked off downstairs and let the former vengeance demon in before she called in any favors.

“I’m not paying you. You should have been at the door like we planned,” Anya hissed as soon as she entered the kitchen. “It wasn’t supposed to break anyways. They never do in the movies.”

“It’s okay, Anya. We’ll figure it out,” Buffy sighed, not looking forward to the potential cost of replacing a window. “Let’s go wake Dawn.” When the two girls found their way to Dawn’s room they were greeted with a bright-eyed teenager fully dressed and ready to go.

“Come on, Buffy! Time to go,” she said impatiently, but smiled in excitement. Dawn couldn’t wait to do this. Her trap was set for the blondes and she would make sure Buffy stayed with Spike during the day and figured out how perfect they were for each other. She’d long ago given up on her crush when she saw how devoted Spike was to her sister. So she focused her energies on getting the pair to acknowledge how they felt for each other instead.

Buffy rolled her eyes and quickly slipped on the nightgown, allowing Dawn to tie the wide red ribbon around her waist. Anya had the crown ready to go and placed it on top of Buffy’s golden curls. When the lighter appeared in Anya’s hands, Buffy started second guessing the wisdom of the idea.

“Flammable Buffy! Careful,” she whispered harshly as Anya and Dawn went to light the candles on her head. “I knew this was a bad idea,” Buffy grumbled, mainly to herself, as she stood as still as possible.

Dawn shushed her, glaring, and finished lighting the last of her candles while Anya slipped downstairs to the kitchen for the coffee and treats. When everyone was set, they readied themselves and opened the door to the witches’ room. Buffy took the lead as Lucia, and Dawn and Anya followed behind. They entered singing, as per tradition, waking Willow and Tara with the smell of coffee and slightly off-key singing.

“So pretty,” Willow smiled widely at the trio, wrapping an arm around Tara. The two witches had decided to try and make their relationship work, at least over the holiday season, and Willow was banned from all things magical. When the girls finished the song and presented their treats, they were met with enthusiastic applause.

“Beautiful,” Tara said, biting into a saffron bun. Buffy immediately fussed over getting her candles blown out so she wouldn’t burn to death, much to the amusement of the rest of the women.

“There you are, you big baby,” Dawn said after extinguishing the candles. “So are you two gonna join us for Giles’ and Xander? You already know the songs,” Dawn asked the witches with a smile. Tara and Willow had participated in the practice, guessing that they would be asked to participate.

Sharing a look, Willow and Tara agreed and soon the small group were packed into Anya’s car heading to Giles’ place. Though the witches weren’t dressed the part, they grabbed a couple of spare candles and served as attendants like Dawn and Anya. After repeating the display at Giles’ apartment to much enthusiasm, they continued onto Anya and Xander’s place.

Xander had happily munched on the treats, declaring this was how he should be woken every day. Anya huffed at the comment, but snuggled onto Xander’s lap, whispering something in his ear the others didn’t want to overhear. At Xander’s nod, Anya declared that she had helped enough and now needed her ‘morning orgasms’. The remaining girls figured that signaled it was time to leave and head off to their last stop: Spike’s crypt.

Anya had graciously offered the use of her car for the remainder of the journey on the condition that Buffy didn’t drive. The group happily accepted, not wanting to be wandering around town in nightgowns in the early dawn. Willow drove as the rest packed into the small car and drove off in the early morning to the cemetery. For any other group this would seem ridiculous, but it was a day in the life of the Scooby gang.

As they neared Restfield cemetery and Spike’s crypt, Buffy felt her nerves begin to fire. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, it was only Spike after all. Aside from the fact that she was in a modest white nightgown and wearing a wreath of candles on her head, she still fretted over how Spike would react. Would he laugh at her? She wasn’t sure she could handle his rejection. Buffy chose not to examine her last thought too closely.

“Ready?” Dawn whispered as the girls made their way out of the car.

“How do you even know he’ll be here? It’s still dark,” Buffy whispered back at Dawn.

“You know he’ll be here. He’s basically keeping human hours these days anyways,” Dawn answered flippantly, not hinting at her earlier intervention.

They reached the crypt in silence, Buffy’s heart galloping wildly in her chest. Dawn shot her sister a look and saw her panicked expression. Smiling inwardly, Dawn knew her plan would work. Buffy was totally into Spike, all she needed was a nudge in his direction. Well, maybe a strong shove. She indicated that Buffy should put the crown on so they could light the candles again. Dawn straightened the crown on Buffy’s head and adjusted the red ribbon around her waist. Giving her sister the thumbs up sign, Dawn opened the door to Spike’s crypt quietly.

Buffy took a deep breath to calm her raging heart and stepped purposefully through the open door, determined to do her best.

Chapter 5

Spike was lying on his four poster bed reading when he first heard the commotion and whispers upstairs. He listened carefully; making sure it was Dawn and Buffy, not some unwelcome intruders out to collect a debt. When he ascertained it was his girls, he smiled and extinguished the candle he’d been reading by and slipped under the covers wearing only a pair of jeans. He didn’t want to be found indecent, especially since he noted two additional heart beats along with the Summers girls’. He lay back and closed his eye, feigning sleep and awaited their arrival, curious as to what they were up to.

Upstairs, Dawn extracted a special thermos from her bag and poured some heated blood out into a mug for Spike. Much better than coffee, she supposed. She stashed the pack, filled with a spare set of clothes for herself and Buffy, on the salvaged sofa in front of the TV. Willow carried the tray but wrinkled her nose at the mug of blood. Dawn smiled brightly at her before lighting her own and Tara’s candles.

The girls proceeded to carefully make their way down the ladder into the darkness of the lower level. Dawn nudged Tara who whispered a couple of words, causing the multitude of candles to light magically in Spike’s bedroom. Willow smiled softly at her girlfriend, happy to allow her to do the magic she was restricted from.

Buffy gasped at the sight before her. When the candles lit it illuminated the richly decorate space in a soft, almost ethereal, glow. Spike lay sleeping in the bed, beautiful against the blood red satin sheets which lay bunched around his hips. She couldn’t tell if he was wearing anything at all, but was fixated on the sculpted upper body on display. Buffy found herself hoping there was nothing but that sheet covering the handsome vampire.

Dawn nudged her sister side, bringing Buffy out of her admiring stare. Dawn held three fingers up, counting down seconds before they should start singing. All together, they began:

“The night goes with weighty step, round yard and hearth. Round earth, the sun departs, Leave the woods brooding. There in our dark house, Appears with lighted candles, Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.,” the girls started, advancing towards the bed with Buffy leading the way.

They continued singing and eventually gathered around the bed, ‘waking’ Spike from his slumber. Spike ran a hand over his face and through his hair, dislodging his curls from the stiff gel. As the singing reached the final chorus, Willow set the tray down on the covers beside Spike. As he sat up, the sheets slipped down and revealed the waistband of his jeans, much to Buffy’s disappointment.

“Happy Saint Lucia Day, Spike,” Dawn smiled happily and hopped onto the bed, lit candle still in one hand. Before the highly flammable vamp could suffer any damage, Willow snuffed it out and took it away from the excited teenager. Dawn bounced towards Spike for a quick hug, completely oblivious to what had nearly happened.

“What a wonderful surprise, nibblet,” Spike said, grinning up at the girls, ecstatic at being included. He smiled at both of the witches in turn, and nearly erupted in laughter at Buffy’s perturbed expression. She was warily trying to look up at her crown as one of the candles had started dripping wax dangerously close to her forehead.

“Off, off, OFF!” Buffy squealed ineloquently. Tara quickly came to the rescue, helping Buffy lift the heavy contraption off her head and extinguishing the candles. Trying desperately to regain her dignity, Buffy glared at Spike, daring him to comment.

“You look beautiful, luv,” Spike said, placating her wounded pride. “All of you,” he continued, looking over the assembled group. Dawn looked hungrily over at the tray, not having been allowed to sample their hard work yet.

“C’mon Spike, eat up. I’m starving!” Dawn exclaimed in a questionable show of manners. Spike chuckled and looked at the tray, selecting a bun before noticing the mug of blood set out for him.

“Thanks, bit,” he said, touched by her thoughtfulness.

“So do you know what all this is about then?” Buffy asked, also eyeing the tray of treats.

“Sure. Dru n’ I were in Sweden in the early 1900s after Angelus left. The north is great for vamps in winter, lack of sunshine most of the day an’ all that,” Spike said and dipped his bun into his mug of blood. Buffy and Dawn had grown accustomed to his eating habits after all the evenings he spent helping Dawn with her homework, so they thought little of sneaking a treat after witnessing the nauseating display.

“You know how gross that is right?” Willow said to Spike, but didn’t wait long to steal her own treat from the tray. Spike grinned a bloody and toothy smile, causing Willow to shudder. Tara quietly joined them, sending a mock-disapproving look in Spike’s direction. As Spike continued telling his story about how he learned of Saint Lucia day, the girls arranged themselves to sit with him on the bed, surrounding him like a group of eager kids at story time.

“So how’d you fare in minus twenty degrees? I know vamps don’t really feel the cold, but still, that’s bad. Not Buffy-friendly weather,” Buffy shuddered at the thought.

“’S not so bad. Blood slows down a bit though so you hafta keep yourself indoors a bit,” Spike admitted. He fell silent after the comment, seemingly in deep thought. “You have school today, nibs?” he asked. Dawn nodded reluctantly.

“Best for you to get goin’ then. Sun’s up,” Spike stated simply with an empathetic smile. He didn’t want this time with the girls to end either. Dawn only grumbled in reply.

“Alright, my stuff’s upstairs,” Dawn said and looked over to Willow. “Can you drive me?”

“Sure, Dawnie,” Willow said. She looked over at Tara who nodded yes to her unasked question, indicated that she would go with them.

Buffy made movements indicating that she was getting ready to come along with the rest of the girls. When she stopped to yawn widely, Dawn knew she had to seize the opportunity to get Buffy to stay with Spike.

“You should stay here, Buffy. You’re exhausted and I’m sure Spike won’t mind,” Dawn said as innocently as possible.

“No, Dawnie. I have so much to do at home,” Buffy answered, but stopped attempting to get up.

“C’mon, luv, stay. I can help you later. You look like you need some rest,” Spike said gently, hoping she would agree, though not expecting it. Buffy shot Spike a questioning look, not sure what to believe. His bed was incredibly comfortable however, and her own was so far away. One little nap couldn’t hurt her; she wouldn’t feel pressured to get up and do her housework if she stayed. Besides, spending some time in bed with a shirtless Spike was far more appealing than it should be.

“And I can help out, Buffy,” Tara piped up. “I don’t have class today.”

Too tired to be suspicious, Buffy relented with a nod. She settled back on the bed, content to stay. Dawn raced up to the upper level for a quick change before heading off to school with Tara and Willow. Spike saw the trio to the door, and as he closed it behind them he wondered what he had done right to get the slayer to agree to stay.

Chapter 6


“C’mon, luv, it’s nap time,” Spike said with a soft smile, moving to arrange the covers. Spike was amazed that Buffy had agreed to stay after only a little persuasion. Perhaps this was the crumb he was waiting for.

“Thanks,” Buffy said quietly, untying the red ribbon from around her waist.

“For what, pet?”

“For not laughing at all this,” she gestured to herself. “Dawn hasn’t been this excited about anything in ages.”

“’S nothing. In fact, I was flattered you even agreed to come. Wasn’t expectin’ to ever be included in anythin’ like this,” Spike remarked, busy pulling back the covers so Buffy could climb in. “Certainly didn’t expect you to stay.”

“It was all Dawn’s idea really,” Buffy said self-consciously, not used to the open praise from the vampire. She crawled in under the covers, ignoring his last remark because she didn’t know how to respond.

“Well, I’ll head upstairs, let you get your kip in peace,” Spike said, gathering a spare comforter from the end of the bed.

“Why?” Buffy said abruptly. At Spike’s curious expression she continued, “T-there’s more than enough room. And, it’s your bed. I should sleep upstairs.”

Spike didn’t know what to say, he just stared at her. The Slayer wasn’t one to think of someone else’s comfort above hers often, especially not this vamp’s comfort. He didn’t really know what to make of her new behaviour, but he shook his head to try and snap himself out of his musings. Doing so, he moved toward the bed slowly, in case Buffy changed her mind.

“Sure, pet. I’ll stay down here,” he said, quickly extinguishing a few of the candles Tara had lit to darken the room enough for sleep. He stopped to look at Buffy lying on his bed. His bed. Her blonde curls were loose and spilled over the red pillows; she looked every inch the blushing virgin bride in her long-sleeved, demure white nightgown. He felt his cock stir in his pants, responding to the sight before him. He drew in an unneeded breath, maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

“Come on then Vampire. Afraid to get into bed with the Slayer?” Buffy teased seeing his reluctance. A dark blush stained her cheeks when she realized how the invitation sounded.

“’S where I’ve always wanted you, kitten,” Spike said, leering at her playfully. Buffy giggled and slid over, allowing Spike some room to join her under the covers. He slipped in and reveled in the warmth left by Buffy’s body then smiled over at her.

“You look jus’ like my sisters with that giant thing on. Modesty was key in those days though I suppose,” he remarked.

“Your sisters? I didn’t know you had any sisters,” Buffy said with interest, pushing down the irritation at being compared to anything sisterly.

“Never asked,” he shrugged, staring at the ceiling. Buffy moved restlessly beneath the covers, finally letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Well your sisters must have enjoyed torturing themselves… This is horrible,” she reached for the button at the nape of her neck, but in her frustration she could only fumble with it.

“Here, pet. Let me help,” Spike sat up pulling Buffy with him and reached up to unbutton the sole restrain around her throat. His fingers ghosted down her shoulders as he tried to let her go. He felt Buffy shudder in response and quickly backed off and lay back on the pillows. He didn’t want to start anything she’d regret later.

Buffy didn’t understand what happened. One minute Spike’s touch was sending shivers up her spine, the next he’d thrown himself back on the bed. Was there something wrong with her? She refused to believe Spike wouldn’t want her if she offered herself freely to him. Should she offer herself to him? Was that what she really wanted? Deciding to test that theory, she slipped the voluminous gown over her head, revealing the tight, white satin slip she wore underneath.

When Buffy moved to take off the now offensive garment, Spike’s hands fisted in the covers. He was a master at restraint but didn’t know how much more of this he could take. When Buffy revealed the satin slip, Spike couldn’t hold back the groan of pleasure the vision of golden innocence presented before him.

Buffy knew she had him when she heard him groan. She no longer denied her attraction to Spike and figured indulging her desire one time wouldn’t hurt her. Sure, just like the nap was going to be just a nap, the little voice inside her head berated. She glanced over her shoulder back at Spike, meeting a pair of dark blue eyes clouded with lust.

“Sorry, too hot,” she said coyly, lying back down against the pillows, on her side, facing Spike. She saw his fists clutching the sheet, corded muscles on display. He looked over at her, an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

“Buffy,” he began, loosening his grip on the sheets and turning over to face her. “You know how I feel about you, yeah? An’ it’s not like I haven’t shown you. But if you don’ want this to go any further, you better pull that sheet up to your chin, missy. I’m doin’ my best here, I’m not a strong man.”

Buffy watched his eyes swirl with emotion and barely restrained desire as he spoke. She knew he wouldn’t touch her if she didn’t want him too. Just as she knew that if she ever said stop, he would without question. He was a much stronger man than he gave himself credit for. She frowned, aware of the impact her decision would have, not just for them, but for the others as well.

Spike watched Buffy’s changing expressions intently. He knew he probably shouldn’t have said anything at all, just left things be. He should have just let her play her game of seduction and silently take it. But he couldn’t risk his heart like that again. If Buffy wanted him, she’d have to give him all of her. When she frowned at him, he closed his eyes, dreading what was to come.

Spike wasn’t expecting soft lips pressing against his own and couldn’t help moaning against the sensation, hands rising to cup Buffy’s face. He instinctively deepened the kiss slightly when he felt her add pressure, her small hands resting on his shoulders.

When Spike had closed his eyes and Buffy saw the pained expression on his face she melted. She wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she leaned forward, pressing her lips softly against his. When his hands cupped her face, she knew she was lost. Her hands grasped at his shoulders as she applied more pressure, parting her lips slightly to allow his tongue to enter. His hands traveled down from her face to run through her hair, pulling her face closer.

Spike broke away from Buffy’s lips sensing her need to breathe. He worked his lips gently down her throat, nipping and licking as he went. When she moaned in pleasure, he intensified his actions, letting one hand drift down her collarbone to rest at one of her soft breasts. He tweaked a nipple through the silky material, feeling it harden under his touch. Reluctantly he left her throat and kissed a trail down to her neglected breast, biting the nipple gently through the material of her slip.

Buffy was immersed in sensation. As Spike kissed his way down her throat, she pushed down her immediate reaction to a vamp so close to her jugular and lost herself in his expert kisses. As he moved on to worship at her breasts, Buffy ran her hands through his curls, encouraging him to continue.

Spike moved slowly, laying his body slightly over Buffy’s, freeing one hand to travel down her belly to the hem of her slip. Buffy’s thighs fell apart when his hand found its way underneath the satiny material, and onto the soft flesh of her inner thighs. His cool fingers left fiery trails in their wake, Buffy’s breath hitching every time he got closer to the apex of her thighs.

“So sweet, love, so soft,” Spike murmured, leaving her breasts to move further down her body. He slid his palms up the outside of her thighs, up over her belly and breasts, taking her slip with them. When she was laid out below him in all her naked glory, he took time to just drink in the vision.

“Beautiful,” he whispered in awe that this wonderful creature would deign to let his hands touch her.

Buffy felt herself blush deeply under his scrutiny. He seemed to absorb every detail of her body in his sapphire gaze, before bending down to place soft kisses along her stomach. His lips traveled further down until his face was right in front of her dripping pussy. Buffy watched him as he smiled wolfishly up at her, before licking her from bottom to top. Buffy moaned loudly at the sensation, spreading her thighs wider to allow him better access.

Spike practically salivated at the delicious aroma coming from his Slayer. As he set to work licking her into a frenzy, he savored her uniquely sweet and powerful taste. When Buffy wriggled underneath him, he smiled and buried his tongue in her tight channel. At Buffy’s cry, he pushed his tongue in further, eliciting further moans of appreciation. He replaced his tongue with his fingers when Buffy started squirming beneath him, licking his way around the outer lips, purposefully ignoring the spot that craved his attention the most.

Buffy was mewling in pleasure, but desperate for more stimulation. When Spike’s fingers replaced his tongue, she sighed, hoping that he’d move to the little nub which was crying out for attention. When he continued torturing her by avoiding her throbbing clit, she sat up and tugged his head in the appropriate direction with a soft growl.

Spike chuckled when Buffy’s frustration caused her to take the matter into her own hands. He gladly acquiesced and sucked her clit into his hungry mouth. It didn’t take a lot of attention before he felt Buffy’s inner muscles start to twitch around his fingers. As he bit down on her clit and his fingers curled up stimulating her further, Buffy’s muscles clenched and she cried out her release.

Spike lapped at her gently as she came down from her orgasm, before making his way up her body. Buffy opened her eyes and smiled at him, while running her hands down his bare back.

“That was, wow,” she sighed, before frowning when she discovered his jeans still in place. “And you are wearing too many clothes, mister.”

Spike moaned when Buffy’s fingers reached down to run over the prominent bulge in his jeans. Her fingers made short work of the button and zipper quickly allowing Spike’s cock to spring free of its confines. He hissed at the first sensation of warm hands against his cool shaft. Buffy slowly explored him with her hands, watching Spike’s face as she did.

Spike opened his eyes and stared into Buffy’s emerald pools, “Playin’ with fire there, pet,” he said, thrusting into her hand as she squeezed his balls. “Won’ last long, kitten. Need to be inside you.”

Buffy looked into the incredible azure depths watching her. She felt Spike’s cock twitch against her hand as she softly caressed the head, marveling at how responsive he was. Desperate to feel him inside of her, she maneuvered him to her sopping entrance.

Spike felt his cock brush against Buffy’s wet folds and groaned at the sensation. When her hand gently directed him to her opening, it was all he could do to restrain himself from ramming into her. Instead, he sunk in slowly, watching her face and allowing her to adjust to his size. When he was fully seated, they shared a moan of pleasure. Spike kissed her throat as he started to move inside her, angling himself just right to ensure Buffy’s pleasure.

“So hot, so bloody perfect you are,” Spike started rambling as her heat enfolded him. He felt like he was burning from the inside out, her wonderful heat infusing his cold body with every thrust. Buffy’s soft moans drove him on and when she raked her nails down his back he thought he’d shoot his load earlier than he intended.

“Come for me, love. Let me feel you come around me, kitten,” Spike encouraged her, lips by her ear, dipping down to suckle at her pulse point.

“Mmmph…” came Buffy’s incoherent reply as she reveled in the sensations Spike was creating in her body. She met him thrust for thrust, finally not being afraid to hold back, knowing Spike was strong enough to take it. As she felt her orgasm building, she craved something more. Spike’s mouth on her neck felt heavenly and as he nipped her with his blunt human teeth, she knew what she wanted.

“Bite me, Spike,” she managed between pants. The request slowed his movements as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“You sure, love,” he whispered the question, amazed that she would trust him to bite her. Buffy smiled softly up at him, nodding in encouragement. It was all he could do to restrain his demon from claiming her right then and there. He thrust into her, burying his face in her throat as his bones shifted. He kissed and licked her throat to lessen the pain of the bite, before gently sliding in his fangs, humming in pleasure when her powerful blood filled his mouth.

As soon as Buffy felt the pinch of Spike’s fangs in her throat, her body surged in response. As he pulled mouthfuls of blood from her body, her orgasm exploded within her. Stars flashed behind her eyelids as she cried out Spike’s name, inner muscles clamping down on his cock. His orgasm followed quickly behind hers as she felt him burst inside of her.

Spike licked gently at the wounds to close them, purring in contentment as he lay between Buffy’s legs. He raised his head to look down at her with amber eyes and shifted back to his human face when she smiled up at him. He didn’t want to move, but was afraid of leaving his dead weight on her, he shifted onto his back, pulling Buffy with him and nestling her against his side. His inner William was screaming at him to declare his undying devotion for the effulgent beauty at his side while his demon lay sated and quiet.

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered, terrified that it would cause her to bolt, but unable to restrain himself. He felt Buffy shift against him, and stiffened in response.

Buffy couldn’t remember the last time her body felt so good, if it ever had. When Spike’s whispered ‘I love you’ broke through her post-coital bliss, she stirred against him, unsure of how to respond. Buffy felt him stiffen and knew she had to say something.

“Spike,” she said softly, waiting for him to meet her eyes. “This is going to sound stupid. A-and I know it’s not what you want. But thank you.”

Spike’s eyes flashed at her admission, unsure of what to make of it.

“I mean, thanks for loving me. I-I don’t know if I’m ready to love you, or anyone yet, but maybe if you’re willing to let me try…” she drifted off, casting her eyes down as tears welled up.

Spike felt like shouting from the rooftops. Buffy wasn’t rejecting him; she was asking him to wait for her. “’Course, love. I’ll wait to the end of the world,” he said, tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“That may be next Tuesday,” Buffy smiled through her tears.

Spike chuckled, “Better not be bloody next Tuesday. I need some time with my girl.” He captured her lips in a tender kiss, putting all of his love and emotions into it, allowing her to feel what he knew to be true.

Buffy broke away panting after the kiss had quickly turned a lot more heated than tender. “Happy Saint Lucia Day, Spike,” she said, smiling cheekily up at him even as her hands were traveling down to explore his body.

“Happy Lucia to you. Best bloody holiday I’ve ever had,” Spike said before leaning down to kiss her again deciding he was far from ready to nap. Buffy’s giggles were the sweetest sound he had ever heard and he looked forward to spending the day in bed with her, content to stay lost in time.

Buffy knew what she would have to face come evening, but as Spike’s kisses caressed her skin once more, she knew it would all be worth it. He was the only one who truly understood her and accepted all of who she was. Perhaps it was time to indulge in a little monster in her man. Before being overcome with the sensations Spike was creating in her once again, she whispered a quick thank you to Lucia for lighting her way and helping her see what was right in front of her for so long.