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Green Eyed Christmas

Part five....




Three hours crawled by. Buffy sat in the living room, staring
hypnotically at the twinkly lights of the Christmas tree.

She had run all the way home, trying to outdistance the hurt
that was threatening to overwhelm her. It hadn't done a bit of
good. When she'd stopped and turned around, all the pain of
her missed chances was still there, taunting her, waiting to
pounce.

At first, she'd been so upset that she hadn't been able to get
the front door unlocked. After dropping her keys three times,
she'd had to sit down on the porch swing and place her head
between her knees, fighting off a wave of nausea.

Five minutes later, she'd taken another shot at the door, and
had been successful.

Stumbling into the foyer, she'd come face to face with a note
that Dawn had taped to the mirror. She'd been invited to a last
minute caroling and tree trimming party at her friend Petra's house.
Petra's mother had come to pick her up, and Dawn had written
the address and phone number at the bottom of the page.

Forcing her voice to remain calm, Buffy called and spoke with
both her sister and Petra's mother, a jolly and chirpy sounding
woman with the strangely suitable first name of 'Tippy'.

With no one else in the house to occupy her thoughts, Buffy
had wandered around like a lost child.

She'd changed into her pajamas...while thinking about Spike.

She'd watered the tree and plugged in the lights....while
thinking about Spike.

She'd loaded the dishwasher, and wiped the peanut butter
off the kitchen counters....still thinking about Spike.

When there was nothing more to be done, she returned to
the living room and collapsed onto the sofa like a dying swan...and
promptly began to think about Spike.

Knowing that the whole mess was all her own fault didn't
lessen the pain of it one iota. She wanted to cry...to scream...to
stamp her foot; all useless gestures that hadn't even worked
when she'd been a child and such things had been expected of
her.

Until now...now that it was really starting to set in...Buffy
hadn't actually known that such pain was even possible. It made
the pain she'd suffered at the loss of Riley seem like a paper
cut in comparison to an amputation with no anesthetic or bullet
to bite down on.

How the hell she was going to get through it was a mystery
to her. Especially if she was going to have to be a regular
audience member at the 'Spike and Melinda' show.

No, she couldn't deal with that. She would have to avoid them
as much as possible. Of course, the others would ask questions,
wanting to know why she never called on Spike for help any-
more, but she would deal with that later...when she could think
about it without dissolving into a weepy mass of quivering hurt.

This unrequited love business was agony, and she didn't know
how Spike had managed to deal with it for so long. Now that
the shoe had been transferred to the other foot with such
dazzling speed, Buffy was quite sure she wouldn't be half as
good at it as he had been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hating the depressive silence in the house, Buffy flipped
through an old box of her mother's CDs. Most of it was
definitely not the sort of thing one should listen to when
suffering a fresh wound to the heart.

Joyce Summers had been a sucker for love songs, both
happy and sad ones, and she'd amassed an extensive collection
of each variety before she'd died.

Buffy rejected disc after disc, finally seizing on one
with a selection of Christmas music sung by various artists.

Figuring that 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer' was her
safest bet, she loaded the disc into the player and
fiddled with the volume control knob.

When she had it at a level that would drown her gloomy
thoughts without causing the neighbors to summon the
noise police, she sank down on the sofa and began her
contemplation of the tree lights.

Singing along with the yuletide cheer, she made it through
'Rudolph', 'Winter Wonderland', 'White Christmas', and
'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' without obsessing
over the man who no longer wanted her.

But her calm was all shot to hell when the next song began
to play.

~~~~~
"Christmas future is far away
Christmas past is past
Christmas present is here to stay
Bringing joy that will last..."
~~~~~


She couldn't bring herself to sing along with this one, al-
though neither did she get up and change the song.

~~~~~
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on, our troubles will be out of sight.."
~~~~~


Whoever was singing had a deep, soft voice. It
reminded her of the way Spike's voice had sounded
during their more intimate moments, when passion was
temporarily sated. A husky whisper in her ear, telling
her how much he loved her...would always love her.

Yeah, well....

~~~~~
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yuletide gay
From now on, our troubles will be miles away..."
~~~~~


Sitting as rigidly still as an Easter Island stone
effigy, Buffy struggled to keep her mind out of places
it had no business going.

But it was no good, and she quickly lost whatever
tiny advantage she had gained.

Mentally throwing in the towel, she was about to lay
down and indulge in a good, old-fashioned holiday cry
fest when the front door suddenly swung open.

Upon seeing who was invading her dungeon of misery,
her mouth formed a perfect 'O' of surprise when Spike
walked in and closed the door behind him.

Their eyes met and held for a long moment, neither of
them saying a word.

He came into the front room, reaching for her hand, draw-
ing her to her feet and into his arms.

Buffy gave no resistance, melting and molding herself
against him like hot wax.

They stayed that way, their bodies moving in a slow
dance to the softly playing musical accompaniment.


~~~~~
"Here we are, as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more..."
~~~~~


She closed her eyes, releasing a breath she hadn't
realized she'd been holding when she felt him brush a
gentle kiss against her hair and whisper, "I'm sorry."


~~~~~
"Through the years, we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.."
~~~~~


Clinging to him, Buffy's eyes opened to meet his...and
she knew...knew without being told...that he had been in
the same pain as she.

The look on his face told the story eloquently.

~~~~~
"And have yourself a merry little Christmas now..."
~~~~~



TBC: The...'ahem'...make up sex.





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