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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a random sidenote that if you haven't seen Game of Thrones, you probably should. I LOVE that show (and the hotness that is Khal Drogo)! Anyway, hope you'll like this chapter. :)

Beta'd by All4Spike.
Chapter 17

Spike had almost forgotten.

It wasn’t until he went out for a walk that the subtle transformation of the town registered. It had been happening around him for almost a month now. How had he not noticed the tacky décor at the local stores, the rising anticipation in the air?

It was bloody Christmas in one week.

Tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Spike stopped and scanned what passed for the main street in this God forsaken town. A shoddy Santa Claus ho-ho-ho’d at him from a nearby window. Spike shot him a glare.

He resumed his pace as well as his brooding. Wait, not brooding. Only nancy boys did that. Pondering sounded much manlier.

Not really his fault he hadn’t noticed. What kind of Christmas could California have anyway? It didn’t even snow here.

The sun would be setting soon, the colours of the sky stuck between day and night. He could sympathise on the being stuck part all too well. When he stopped near the door to the grocery store, he had to wonder whether not getting the damned book was just an excuse for his lingering presence. He could be hunting down more clues, following his other leads and instead here he was: a sitting duck.

Through the glass he watched Buffy laugh at something her father said, a strand of hair falling free from her ponytail and whispering against her cheek. His fingers clenched at the sudden urge to walk in and brush it away.

What was he doing here? Making friends with her, almost snogging her in her own kitchen? He’d barely survived losing Dru after losing his family. He could never allow himself to feel love for another person. It was like signing their death warrant.

Sometimes he was convinced he’d been cursed. That for some reason a higher power looked down at him and thought, ‘William Pratt? Oh yeah, let’s have fun making his life a living hell and see how much more he can take.’

Buffy was supposed to be inside wrapped in the warmth, laughing, just like she was now. Him?

Spike snorted and tore his gaze away from her face, squinted his eyes against the gust of cold wind as he walked away.

He’d be lucky if he survived the inevitable clash with Angelus. But even if he didn’t, he’d make sure to drag the monster right down to the pits of hell with him.

*******

Buffy glanced out of the window in time to see Spike turn around and head off. Not knowing what possessed her she said, “I’ll be right back. Just going to get some fresh air.”

“Take your coat!” Dad called when she was almost out of the door. “And hat. And gloves. And shawl too.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and ran back towards the counter to retrieve her coat. “I’m not taking anything else. It’s not Siberia, Dad.”

“If you catch a cold, I’m not taking care of you,” he grunted.

“Yes, you are,” she said with a sweet smile and strode out before he could reply.

Besides, she wasn’t the whiny patient in their family. Sneezing more than once and Hank would convince himself he was dying of flu. She wondered if that was just him or all men.

Probably all men.

Spike’s shoulders were hunched as he trudged down the street as if someone had shot his puppy. An older woman Buffy recognised as Parker’s mother passed him by with a barely repressed look of terror on her face, clutching her purse closer to her body. Buffy snickered as she sneaked closer behind him. Was she the only one who saw just a lonely man rather than a potential mugger?

Right as she stretched her hand out to touch his shoulder, Spike whirled around and caught her wrist in a vice like grip.

“Ow,” she said with a pout. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re way too twitchy?”

Confused Spike was kind of cute.

“My wrist? Let go please?” she demanded with a shake of said wrist.

He let go. “Right. Sorry. It’s a reflex.” He glanced over her shoulder before focusing back on her. “What are you doing out here?”

“Fresh air.” Like she’d admit she saw him and had irresistible urge to talk to him? No, thank you.

He nodded and patted his pockets before retrieving a pack of cigarettes.

“You know these are bad for you, right? You could get lung cancer,” she said

Spike lit up with a snick of his lighter and sucked in the poisonous air with obvious relish. Her eyes zeroed in on the purse of his lips before she realised what she was doing and looked away, her cheeks hot.

“Love, when I die it won’t be cancer, trust me.” His grin didn’t quite reflect in his eyes. Whatever was so funny, she didn’t get it.

“You’re in a weird mood,” she remarked and followed him to the narrow alley between the pharmacy and the hardware store where they were at least partially shielded from the wind.

“Oh, sorry. Want a taste?” He offered her the cigarette.

“Eww.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug and pushed it back between his lips.

Was he even listening to her? Geez. “What? No smart comeback on my ‘you’re acting weird’ comment?”

“What’s there to say? I’ve got the pre-Christmas jitters.”

“Are you staying here for the holidays?” she asked. “You’re not going to be alone, are you?”

Spike gave her a disgruntled look and leaned against the wall, the smoke he exhaled shrouding his expression before it dispersed.

“You can lose that pity look you’re giving me right now,” he said.

She was not giving him pity looks! Was she?

“I’ve been Scrooging it for as long as I can remember. Just because the telly says you ought to spend it arguing and stuffing yourself until you feel sick doesn’t mean I have to do it too,” he said defensively and flicked the stub to the ground. “I’d rather spend it watching porn. If you feel so sorry for me you can always join me.”

He smirked, probably at her flustered fish-out-of-the-water look.

“That’s just… gross.” And wait! He always did this. Deflecting her question with innuendo and saying stuff he knew would throw her off track. Well, she was onto him now. “But you’ve got to have someone you could spend Christmas with. If you don’t, you could—”

He inched his way closer to her. “I could what? Would you invite me in? Let me eat your cookies?”

Why did she have the feeling that by cookies he meant something entirely different? And just how much more could her cheeks flame before her head exploded?

“You’re trying to distract me,” she said, watching as he caressed the lapel of her coat.

“Is it working?”

“Uhh…”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said way too smugly for her piece of mind.

“Spike!” She slapped his hand away.

He slumped into the wall. “Spoilsport.”

“I meant what I said… or would have said if you didn’t get all distract-y. You could come by my house. There will be food… and eggnog! I’m sure Dad wouldn’t mind.” Well, not much anyway. She hoped.

“Yeah, he’d be real happy. What with the death glares he keeps shooting at me every time I enter the store.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

Spike gave her a look. “He hasn’t been exactly hiding his dislike.”

“He’s just… overbearing. But he doesn’t bite, I think.”

Tilting his head, Spike regarded the girl in front of him. Something in him really wished he could say yes. He imagined sitting next to her, seeing the decorative lights reflect in her eyes, even watching bloody Charlie Brown with her curled against his side.

“I can’t. Got work to do.” She looked ready to argue and he knew if he let her pin him with that gaze he lately found himself incapable of resisting, she’d make him agree. “I might go to Cleveland to see my… umm… uncle Rupert. If I get a flight ticket, that is.”

She didn’t look convinced but seemed willing to drop the subject. “Okay. But if you don’t, you can come by.”

Yeah, he could see the joy in her father’s face if he did.

“Got it.”

She shivered and folded her arms over her chest.

“You should get back inside. We wouldn’t want your cute little ass to freeze, now would we?”

Teasing her and making her blush was fast becoming his favourite past time.

“Fine. I’m going, but not because you told me to but because I’m getting cold.”

He chuckled and gave her a wink as she lifted her nose haughtily.

“See you soon, kitten.”

The smile on her face was reluctant but he couldn’t help but smile in return.

As he made his way back to the house, he regretted lying to her. Rupert would probably call him, but after the first year he spent Christmas with him and his wife Joyce, he realised it only made him miss his old life even more. Since then he’d always disappear around Christmas. So yeah, he was a coward. He couldn’t handle being a part of that when pulling away was much easier. At least that way, he wouldn’t make them share his misery.

Not to mention, if Joyce took one good look at him she’d have him spilling his guts over a cup of hot cocoa. The woman had an uncanny ability to bludgeon right past his every defense just with a kind smile. Much like Buffy did.

Come to think of it, he’d probably steer clear of trouble if he avoided the entire female race.

*******

Hank wasn’t an idiot. Not nearly as clueless as Buffy seemed to think he was. Or maybe not as clueless as her, he thought with amusement bordering on concern.

Unlike her, he’d noticed the punk kid watching her through the window, seen the look on his face. Surely he wouldn’t be overreacting if he shot the kid in the leg? Just to gently scare him off?

No? Damn it.

Hank managed a responding smile when Buffy bounded back into the store, shedding the coat and rubbing her arms.

“You should have taken the hat,” he reprimanded her as he wiped the counter.

She rolled her eyes like she was so prone to do every time he acted too fatherly. But God damn it, he couldn’t help it. She was his little pumpkin.

“I’m fine, Dad.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

Well, how could he stay mad at her when she got all cute?

“At least eat something. I saved you a couple of chocolate doughnuts. They’re in the back.”

Her eyes lit up as she dashed to the storage. “You’re the best!”

“Of course I am,” he agreed with a grin. “Gotta take care of my little girl, right?” Maybe if he fattened her up, the punk would lose interest. Nah, she’d still be beautiful. It was his fault for making such pretty babies, he thought dismally.

Buffy strode over to his side, chewing on a doughnut. “I’m going to be eighteen soon, you know,” she said as if that meant she’d have all the experience of the world. Not that she hadn’t already matured far past her age. But if he could help it, he’d protect the innocence she’d still had left.

“I know, pumpkin,” he said with a smile and reached out to ruffle her hair. Mostly because he knew it irritated her and antagonising others ran in the family genes.

She poked his cheek with mischief glinting in her eyes and he just knew she’d smeared chocolate there.

“You’re a nuisance,” he said and wiped the chocolate stain off as she laughed.

Hell, how was he supposed to not want to protect her? To not want only the best for her and keep her heart safe? It was why he forced her to go through therapy after she got those scars. Why he fought the urge to rip everyone to pieces when she came home from school one day and asked him if she was a monster. She’d been only nine then.

Buffy leaned against him with a satisfied smile and said, “I love you.”

His heart clenched. What was he supposed to do to keep her from getting hurt? Could he ground her until she was old and wrinkly?

“You better. Those doughnuts are delicious,” he said and she pinched his side. “Ow!”

She gave him a look.

“All right, all right. I give up,” Hank said. “Love you too, you troublemaker.”

TBC





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