Never Ever Tell by Lilachigh
Chapter 26 Under her skin
Buffy paused at the outside door leading down to Xander’s basement. The fairy lights that he’d fixed across the front of the house were still twinkling, but half the line were trailing down the wall where they’d been blown down in the wind.
She winced. Raised drunken voices rang out angrily from inside the house. Mr and Mrs Harris were celebrating Christmas in their own fashion.
Xander and Anya, however, were sitting happily on the sofa in Buffy’s living-room, eating nuts and candy, watching silly films on TV.
After the horror of The Gentlemen incident, everyone needed to relax and have fun.
Mrs Summers was cooking a huge meal, helped by Willow, who kept telling everyone that being Jewish, she didn’t celebrate Christmas, but hey, where else would she be on Christmas Day when both her parents were away.
Buffy opened the door into the basement flat, then paused. She remembered flinging open her own front door a couple of hours ago to find her three friends standing there, Xander and Anya singing carols at her.
She’d laughed as she’d ushered them in, then - “What have you done with Spike?” she asked, peering out into the gloomy afternoon street.
“Spike?” Xander said, puzzled. “He’s back in the basement. He wasn’t invited for Christmas, surely?”
“What? Oh, no, of course not.” Buffy laughed briefly, shutting the door behind them and watching as they piled presents under the tree. “I mean, we had enough trouble feeding him at Thanksgiving, didn’t we?”
“I don’t think he’s even awake, Buffy,” Anya said. “He hadn’t come out of his room before we left. I can’t imagine what he does in there - well, yes, I can imagine - I think he - ”
“Right! Well, can I get anyone a drink? I’ve made punch.”
Willow must have caught something in her tone, because she said swiftly, “I don”t think vampires celebrate Christmas, Buffy. Evil and all that. And Giles is coming over later. He wouldn’t be too pleased to find Spike here.”
Buffy had agreed. The last thing she wanted was the sarcastic tongued vampire in her living-room on Christmas Day.
Still - after a couple of hours, she announced, “I’m going to do a quick patrol, then get back for dinner. Don’t eat anything till I’m back.OK?”
“Buffy, surely you don’t need to patrol today?” Xander said.
“Oh, I’ll just race round, grave-yard to grave-yard. I’ll be back before you know it.”
And now she was here, inside Xander’s basement and she didn’t know why. She didn’t want Spike at their Christmas dinner. She didn’t even want to speak to him today. He was an irritation, like a splinter that had lodged under her skin that she couldn't reach to pull out.
“If you’re coming down those steps, Slayer, you might get a move on. You’re letting out all the warmth.”
Spike’s drawl made her jump and she hurried down the final few stairs to find him lying slouched in a chair. Scattered on the table in front of him were several magazines; he was reading what looked like - well, there were bodies and she was not going to look any closer. It was obviously something gross!
“Xander forgot some beer in his fridge,” she said brightly. “I said I’d pick it up as I finished my patrol.”
Spike leant a long arm over the edge of his chair and picking up a can, waved it at her, his sharp gaze taking in the bright red festive top that clung to her breasts, the black leather trousers and high cut boots. “Sorry, all gone, Slayer. Hope it won’t spoil your Christmas cheer.”
“What? Oh no. We’ve got plenty. Honestly, Spike, have you drunk the whole pack already?”
He shrugged. “And a Happy Christmas to you, too, Slayer.”
“Happy - don‘t be silly, Spike. You’re a vampire. You don’t do Christmas.”
Blue eyes, shadowed with dark lashes, he looked bored. “Right. You all having fun?”
“Yes,” Buffy said defiantly, wondering why she was suddenly feeling guilty.
“I mean, well, we haven’t eaten dinner yet. Giles is coming over this evening. ”
Spike grinned. “Hey, hey, the gang’s all here! All the fun of the fair, then.” His eyes glittered dangerously and Buffy felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
She didn’t understand the tension in the air. Surely he didn’t expect to be invited to Christmas dinner. This wasn’t like Thanksgiving. Then he’d had nowhere to go to hide from the Initiative. Now he had a safe hiding place here in Xander’s basement and a little gratitude from him wouldn’t have gone amiss.
“Do you want to come back with me for Christmas dinner?” she blurted out
Spike stared up at her. He could see how torn she was, that she was only inviting him out of guilt and although he hated her with a vengeance, there was part of him - buried very deep, but always there - that knew she would be far more relaxed if he wasn’t around tonight. And for some reason that was important to him.
He laughed and waved a hand at the magazines in front of him. “Thanks for the invitation, Slayer, but I reckon I’ll have more fun sitting here enjoying myself - if you get my meaning!”
Buffy wrinkled up her nose in disgust, then wondered why she was feeling both relieved and disappointed at his refusal.
“Right, well, as you’ve drunk all Xander’s beer, I’d better get back.”
She stared round the dismal basement; it smelt of damp and dirty clothes and Xander’s aftershave. She pictured home: the tree glittering with tinsel and candy canes, the wreath on the door, cards and decorations and lots and lots of presents.
Suddenly she was angry at herself for standing here, worrying about an evil vampire who was obviously anxious to get back to his skin mags.
Buffy fled back up the stairs, into the fresh air. The wind was blowing again, the string of fairy lights had finally hit the ground and gone out and the Harrises had reached a new level of anger in their Christmas shouting match.
She headed for home, brushing away stupid tears that the cold wind forced from her eyes.
In the basement, Spike scowled and pushed aside Xander’s girlie magazines that he’d used to hide what he’d had laid out on the table when he scented Buffy outside.
The silence of the basement crowded in and a wave of despair swept over him. A vampire who couldn’t bite, couldn’t feed properly. Chipped and controlled. What the hell did he have to live for?
Christmas, no one should be alone at bloody Christmas - why had he ever imagined the Slayer was coming to ask - that they would want him there - how ridiculous and pathetic he was becoming, that he’d half hoped those - those - odious children, the Whelp and his demon tart, Red and the Wanker Watcher would invite him to spend time with them. He thanked all that was evil in the world that she hadn’t seen -
And he smashed both hands down on the pile of little parcels in front of him, destroying the presents he’d taken the time and trouble to steal and stupidly wrap for the people who hated him as much as he hated them and who didn’t want him to be with them at Christmas.
to be continued
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I feel a lot more must have happened to Spike to make him want to stake himself. Could being alone at Christmas have been one of the things to push him over the edge?