Christmas lights twinkled silently on the tree as Buffy waddled through the lounge door and made her way over to the couch. She’d left the overhead lights off, the glow of the tree lights bright enough to guide her across the room. It was well after midnight, so technically it was already Christmas, but technicalities were merely technicalities when the rest of your family and friends were locked away in the land of nod and you were the only one awake and up and about.
Well maybe not so much with the about, but at least being upright felt like a relief after the last three hours spent trying to find a comfy position to sleep in. She couldn’t lie on her front or her back, and after a while, lying on her side filled her hips and thighs with various pains and niggles. No wonder! She looked down at her belly and grimaced. Accounting for the time she’d spent underground, Buffy was now more than eight and a half months pregnant. Near term, and the size of a bus, she was tired, achy, grouchy and tearful.
Still, at least the achy tiredness was part of the normal, to-be-expected side effects of pregnancy. It had taken a few weeks, but she had at last totally recovered from the physical side effects of her kidnapping trauma. Emotionally, she still felt a little fragile at times, more vulnerable and way less invincible than she’d always considered herself to be in the past. She’d stuck close to home, and even closer to Spike, somewhat fearful of being out of his presence. And with only a few exceptions, he’d been happy to accommodate her, his anxieties about her safety a pretty close match to her own.
In fact life at Ashdown had slowed down almost to a standstill for the young couple. Buffy hadn’t taken a class since her rescue, and Spike had only gone back part time over the last two weeks, subbing as another surge of young slayers joined the ranks. In fact with the last intakes, girls from West Africa, Indonesia, and the Pacific, ninety percent of the estimated two thousand slayers had now been identified, signed up and whisked halfway across the world to the welcoming arms of Ashdown Estate.
Most of the recruitment teams had completed their missions, and their members were back at Ashdown for redeployment in the New Year, some to join the teaching staff at the Academy and some to establish one or another of the International squads. Even the two teams that were working their way south through the African continent had flown back for the Christmas break. And on top of that, Connor, Wes, Fred, Faith and most of the current international squad members had joined them as well.
The predicted Christmas onslaught had prompted a flurry of activity on the accommodation front. Xander’s crews had finished fitting the second big dorm block, officially named Sineya Hall, only a fortnight previous. The weeklong moving process had gone smoothly and the last of the new intake of slayers had settled into the original dormitory wings in the main house. That had left just enough time for Xander and Oz to get their respective families’ things shifted into the last two empty houses on the estate.
The two houses were almost like one great big one. They had their own kitchens and living areas, but a small, shared courtyard connected them one to the other. With Oz, Willow and Tara preparing for their family to soon expand to five, they had chosen the larger house. It had four bedrooms, and a study that was a perfect size for the three Guardians to use as a classroom/library. The smaller house had become Xander and Rowan’s home. It had three bedrooms, one of which was set up as a permanent guest room for Althanea and Frank whenever they stayed over.
Which was the case at the moment. In fact everyone’s spare rooms were occupied. She and Spike had Dawn and Fred sharing Dawn’s room, while Wes and Connor were in the guest room. The Rosenburg-Osbourne-McLays or the Rom-Coms as they styled themselves (Com standing for Collective of Musical/Mystical/Madness and Mayhem, depending on how the day was going), were billeting Faith, Andrew and Nandish, while Giles and Cat had Colleen and Matthew staying with them. This freed the lodge up for as many of the International Watchers and slayers as possible. The Californian, Chinese, Brazilian and New York teams were all squeezed in there.
So the Lodge was groaning at the seams, but for a change, the two tower blocks, plus the main wing, were mostly empty. Many of the young slayers had flown home to their families for the two-week Christmas break. For most it would be their first family time since they’d arrived at Ashdown. Those that were left were mainly orphans, or the girls that had been taken from their families by the Council when they were young.
They had a big lunch planned for tomorrow, big enough to cater for all the girls as well as the Scoobies and associated Watchers. It was going to be nice, not as nice as Christmas with just her family and friends, but still, pretty nice. And at least she didn’t have to cook this time. She was seriously past wanting to cook anything.
Sighing, Buffy looked towards the tree. More specifically, under the tree. Gifts were piled haphazardly beneath the huge, beautifully decorated Nordman Fir. Looking at that tree transported her to her happy place, and remembering getting and decorating it just made her smile.
The weekend after Thanksgiving, Spike had taken her and Dawn on an outing to a Christmas tree farm called Wilderness Wood, just outside of the little village of Hadlow Down. It had been her first venture outside of Ashdown since she’d been taken, and she’d been fairly wary. With her cumbersome belly, and the precious cargo it represented, she’d felt ungainly and vulnerable. But Spike and Dawn had stayed right beside her for the entire day, and she knew that at any time, either one of them would have used their strengths to fiercely defend and protect her and the baby if needed. And so after a while, she’d been able to just relax and enjoy the outing.
The farm was about a half hour’s drive from Ashdown, through winding country lanes and picturesque villages set amongst the small fields, scattered farmsteads and woodlands of the High Weald. It had been a cool, crisp Autumn’s day, the sun making a rare appearance through a scattering of cloud. They’d arrived at Wilderness Wood early enough to be able to pick and tag one of the trees in the plantation.
Wandering through the row upon row of trees, she’d fallen in love with her pick at first glance, although there’d been an extended ‘discussion’ before she’d gotten the other two to agree. Needless to say, they’d eventually given in to the temperamental pregnant chick, luckily before too much wailing or foot stamping had occurred. The tree had been proudly tagged and registered and left to spend another six weeks in the soil, adding height and breadth to its already impressive size.
They’d finished their day out with lunch at the farm café, and an extra spend on a huge selection of various decorations that they sold at the farm shop. In fact, that was just the start of her slightly obsessive shopping spree; spent in the comfort and safety of her lounge thanks to a range of awesome catalogues that sold everything from baby clothes to Christmas ornaments. She’d forked out hundreds and hundreds of pounds at places like Freemans, J.D. Williams and Littlewoods, trying to replicate the late, lamented, Summers’ family tree decorations and fill the nursery drawers with non-gender specific baby rompers and sleep suits.
By the time they’d driven back to cut their tree down, strap it to the top of the van and haul it home, she had amassed enough fairy lights, glass balls and quaint ornaments to decorate three trees. In fact it had taken Dawn and Buffy an entire weekend to squeeze every single ornament onto the tree. But it was worth it. The effect was stunning. Standing at seven foot tall, the fir’s dark green needles were smothered in gold and green and red and white, delicate glass sitting side by side with gleaming metal and gaily painted wood and china.
The tree dominated their lounge, standing squarely in front of the large picture window that looked back towards the main buildings of the estate. Its gleaming, shimmering branches set Buffy’s heart alight with joy every time she saw it. It was kind of a token, a representation of her old life. It made her think of her Mom, and even her Dad, of those happy family Christmases before things went wacky. Plus it was stunning. And over the last week that sight had become even more exciting, as first one, two, and then dozens, of gaily wrapped parcels had been settled beneath the tree.
The temptation to scope out those presents labelled with her name had been gnawing at her for the past three days. Sure she was an adult, all grown up and loved up and about to take on the responsibilities of motherhood. But something about gifts just brought out the child in her, reminiscent of those times when she and Dawn would sneak down to the lounge to pore over their presents, shaking them, squeezing them, doing whatever they could, short of ripping off the wrapping, to try and guess what they’d got.
That childhood curiosity burned just as brightly, but sadly she wasn’t currently built for a quick, covert raid. Getting down on her knees to floor level was no easy feat. And getting up again would be worse. But at that moment, while everyone was fast asleep, well the timing couldn’t be better.
Still, it was going to take some effort to get down there. She figured she’d fortify herself with a hot chocolate before undertaking her mission. Ever since her return from the caves, Buffy had taken a real liking to the creamy concoction that Dave had whipped up for her first post rescue meal. After endless take out orders, she’d bugged Spike into finding out what brand the chef used so that she could satisfy her craving in the comfort of her own kitchen, night or day. They’d already gone through three or four of the little canisters of Green and Black’s Organic Hot Chocolate. Hopefully Spike had remembered to buy another tin to see them through the Christmas break.
Popping her mug of milk into the microwave, Buffy’s mind drifted once again to her kidnapping. Despite the ongoing, and vigorous interrogation efforts of Giles, Wes and Spike, the surviving prisoners had refused to divulge anything beyond their names and date of birth. That had infuriated all three of the guys, Spike in particular, who’d muttered darkly that ‘The poxy idiots must think they’re in some army if they reckon the Geneva Convention applies to them’.
Eventually they’d set Willow loose on the prisoners. She’d utilized a Truth spell combined with a modified version of some old Turkish incantation that they’d used on one of the Bringers back during the Hellmouth Battle. Buffy couldn’t remember her doing that, and Willow had blushed and mumbled that it was while she’d been excluded from the house. That had started a whole round of tears and apologies and hugs, before finally everyone had settled down and allowed Willow to get on with her ‘questioning’.
It was much as they’d suspected. The men belonged to a group of zealots who worshipped various of the Old Ones. Their group came from Turkey, but they vowed that cults existed around the world, all formed with the one purpose, the worship of those ancient demons, and their resurrection and return to power. They called themselves the Children of Amroz, after their name for the Old Ones. According to the two men, the sarcophagi contained not only the bones of the Amroz, but also their essence. Some ceremony or ritual could be carried out to invoke that essence, and raise them from death.
For some freaky reason, the two men were hell-bent on raising the ancient demons in order to bring about the destruction of mankind. How stupid could they be? Did they really think the Old Ones were going to spare them just because they gave them a fancy name and get out of jail free card? It reminded Buffy of that ridiculous vampire worshipping Sunset Club that Ford had belonged to back in Sunnydale, who thought that the ‘Lonely Ones’ were gentle and misunderstood. How could people be so gullible?
Anyway, she thought as she wandered back through to the lounge with her mug of hot, creamy, chocolaty goodness in her hand, it had been enough to send Giles and Spike dashing off to the Deeper Well to check out the sitch for themselves. Buffy had been happy to sit that one out, although she’d been pleased to learn that the poor guy who’d been trussed up at the entrance to the well had survived none the worse for wear or chainage.
The guy was called Drogyn. A pretty strange name really, and she’d actually called him Dragon the first few times she’d met him. Embarrassing. Anyway, Drogyn was working with Giles and Spike and Wes whenever he was over, cos they’d discovered something seriously freaky and disturbing about the coffins in the Well. They’d disappeared! Every last one of them. Drogyn was the official guardian of the Well, and after he’d escaped from his chains, he’d stayed at his post twenty-four seven, right until Giles and Spike had paid him a visit. No-one had taken any coffins out of the cavern he guarded, and apparently he wasn’t able to lie so the guys trusted him.
He even checked with some guy in New Zealand, who watched over the other end of the Well. There’d been no traffic at that end either. Obviously the Children of Amroz had other means of accessing the Well. Whether it was through the Krubera Caves, or another entrance somewhere else, or maybe via some sort of portal, none of them knew. In fact not even their two helpful prisoners knew the answer to that question. But one thing was sure, it all spelt trouble with a capital T.
The one thing the prisoners did know though was why they were given the job of kidnapping Buffy. They knew about the prophecy regarding Sagaria. Their version was a little different however, with the Slayers cast as the bad guys and the stupid Old Ones as ‘the noble powers arising from the pits of the earth to wreck vengeance upon the non-believers’. Whatever. But one thing they had right, the role that she, Spike and their baby played in cementing the Slayers’ powers. They weren’t sure how it was supposed to happen but they had a fair idea of the time frame.
Their orders had been to capture and restrain the head Slayer, holding her until the child was born. Apparently no-one was quite certain about whether or not the child was destined to have any powers of his or her own, so for now they’d been told to simply abscond with them both. The Slayer was to be kept alive until the baby was viable, and then killed if needs be, but whatever Buffy’s fate, they’d had orders to keep the child until further notice.
Buffy had flipped out at that, and three weeks later it still set her heart pounding and her eyes watering. She’d been through plenty of bad moments before, heading to her prophesied death at the Master’s hands and Glory’s abduction of Dawn being the two worst. This feeling was worse than either of those, worse than Angel’s death at the end of her sword or even Spike’s immolation (thanks mainly to her non-acceptance of his permanent departure).
She felt like a sitting duck, a helpless, big-bellied, waddly sitting duck. She was used to taking the action to the bad guys. The waiting game so didn’t suit her temperament, but what else could she do. Even with the protection tattoo in effect, she couldn’t fight, couldn’t defend herself. So waiting, till her baby was born, till they could claim Sagaria, was the only game available.
Shaky from the flood of adrenaline coursing through her veins, Buffy sat back down on the couch and sipped her hot chocolate. She draped a blanket over her legs, partly to ward off the pre-dawn chill and partly to settle her heart rate. Cat had got quite worried about her at one stage, concerned that her elevated blood pressure could impact on both the baby’s development and her own health. Taking up t’ai chi once again had helped increase her fitness and decrease her stress levels. In fact she’d got Cat, Rowan (when she wasn’t in school) Willow and Tara to join the class as well, making their own special group within the larger class. They abstained from the more strenuous exercises, but the gentle and relaxed movements helped to strengthen muscles and circulate blood throughout the body, benefitting all five women.
With her drink finished Buffy decided she’d better get stuck into the present hunt before her bladder made a nuisance of itself again. Guessing she’d need the extra light to help her read the gift labels, she made her way back to the door and flicked on the overhead lamps. Light flooded the room, showcasing the vibrant reds, greens and golds of the wrapping paper and the sparkle and shimmer of ribbons and bows. Dropping to her knees, Buffy crawled towards the tree, her heart pattering in anticipation.
She started at the front. After three or four miscues, presents for Dawn from Connor, Xander and Rowan from Wes and Fred (the various couples, or trios, had elected to buy joint gifts for each other rather than individual) and Faith from Giles and Cat, plus a couple of gifts that were from her and Spike, she hit gold. An oblong shaped package wrapped in red paper with green Christmas tree motifs; the card read “To Buffy, Love always on a very special Christmas, Dawn and Connor”.
Buffy frowned. She didn’t realise that those two were going to do shared shopping. It seemed very couply for such a new … couple. If that was what they were! Still Wes and Fred had shared the purchasing as well, and they weren’t officially a couple either. Yet! Well as far as she knew, although as obtuse as she could be about these things, even she had noticed the flirtage. Turning back to the matter at hand, Buffy scrutinised the package closely. It stood about 14 inches tall and about eight inches in width and depth. It was obviously a box, maybe containing an appliance of some sort. She was dying to shake it, but breakage on Christmas day was always a bummer.
Moving on, she quickly sorted out a handful of packages from her family and friends. Some of the gifts were for her alone; some were for Spike and her as a couple. For her, something soft, possibly clothing, from Giles and Cat, and something similar from Faith. For the two of them, something small, boxy and heavy from Althanea and Frank, and a very large box from Xander and Rowan, matched by two identical boxes beneath it, one for Cat and Giles and the other for Willow, Oz and Tara.
There was even a gift from Andrew. And right near the back, a long, soft, bulky package that was sort of squishy to touch. It came from the Rom-Coms and Buffy had a sudden inkling that it might be one of those preggy pillows. She hoped so, cos she could really do with its support right about now. She guessed it would be rude to rip it open already and drag it back to bed with her. Shame.
That pretty much looked like her haul. She sat back on her butt, frowning as she wondered where her present from Spike was. Okay so it was their first Christmas together as a couple, but she was convinced that her man would be the gift buying and giving sort. In fact she was fairly sure that he’d tried getting her things back when she hated him, so he should be good to go now. Buffy had bought Spike a digital camera, so that he could take photos of the baby, and a photo album to put the prints in. He was going to love it, she was sure. Sighing, she was about to dive back in for one more little search when a pair of bare arms slid around her waist and a pair of lips nuzzled up against her neck.
“Now, now, now. What are you doing out here Slayer, buried knee deep in Yuletide offerings. I hope you haven’t been a naughty girl, or old St Nick’ll leave you off his list.”
“Spike!” she pouted, “You gave me a fright. And I wasn’t peeking, honest. I was just checking that all the presents made it out here. That none of them got lost, or misplaced or … forgotten.
“Ah, pet,” Spike smirked, “Just doing your civic duty were you? At two o’clock in the morning. Mighty caring of you. Must be the Christmas spirit. Nevertheless, Almost-Mama Slayers should be tucked up in their bedrooms fast asleep.”
“But I couldn’t sleep. I was all achy and sore. And I had to go to the bathroom. And I needed a hot chocolate,” she whined. “I was just about to come back to bed when I thought I’d have a quick check.”
“Oh ho,” he chuckled. “You were having yourself a right old nosy, weren’t you luv? Were you looking for anything in particular? Like this maybe?”
Spike pulled a beautifully wrapped package out from behind his back. Buffy squealed and snatched it off him. The present was gift-wrapped in gold foil and topped with one of those fluffy bows. It was about the size of a book, but felt hard on the bottom and soft on the top. She turned it over and over, carefully easing the card out from under the corner of the bow.
‘To my love and soulmate, on the first of many, many Christmases together. Love always, William xxx.’
Buffy squealed again and clutched the gift to her chest, then dropped it on the carpet and pulled Spike to her chest.
“Oooo, thank you baby,” she said happily, pressing kisses to his face and lips, before turning back to the package and prodding it a little more.
“Well go on then,” Spike said. “Its Christmas officially already. May as well open it pet.”
“Really,” Buffy asked, excitement bubbling over as she bounced up and down on her knees.
“Go on then,” he grinned back at her, catching some of her infectious enthusiasm. “Here, let’s go sit on the couch so that if you faint from anticipation, at least you’ll be somewhere comfy.”
Spike tipped her back and scooped her up, all in one smooth movement. Buffy giggled and flailed her legs and one arm about, all while she clung tight to her gift with the other.
The second she was settled on the sofa, she started tearing into the paper. The photo frame fell out first. Made from what looked like pewter, it was embellished with a Celtic style pattern around the edge.
“Thought you might like to put a photo of our lad in it once he arrives, or even one of our wedding photos when we get round to it.” Spike’s tone was uncharacteristically quiet, almost reticent.
Buffy peered back at him, her eyes damp with gratitude and affection. She threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead to his.
“Love you baby, so much. And I love the frame.” She drew closer and kissed him deeply, until the flick of his tongue against her lips set her blood aflame.
“Hmmm. Maybe I’m due an early Chrissy present as well. How about you check out the rest of your present and we’ll see.”
Buffy poked her tongue out at him and picked up the torn package. Lying at the bottom were three garments, which as she shook them out, turned out to be a short, black peignoir set. The babydoll nightgown had adjustable straps and a sexy stretch lace bodice, with matching lace trim at the hemline. It was made from a stretch nylon so would be fine to wear over her bump now, but it also had easy release snaps so that she could use it while she was nursing as well. The robe came to mid thigh and was made from the same black lace that adorned the nightie, with a satin tie under the bust to hold it closed. A matching lace thong completed the set.
“Wow, sexy and practical. I’m impressed. I guess we could do a little trial run. You know, just to see if they fit.”
“Okay kitten, hold that thought. Got one more gift to give you now.” Spike dropped to his knee in front of Buffy, and reached down beside the couch, pulling out another package that he’d seemingly stashed there, this one obviously containing a small, cube shaped box.
Buffy blinked, each flutter of her lashes helping her brain to input the data and sort out what was actually happening. Before he even had a chance to speak, she was grinning, crying and shaking fit to burst.
“I know I’ve done the asking already, and I know you’ve given me your answer ‘n all. But told you I’d been looking, searching for just the right rock for my girl. And I found it baby. So this isn’t really another proposal, its more a reaffirmation of my intent and a presentation of the token of my promise to you.” His voice was wobbling a little. “Okay?”
She just nodded, stunned beyond speech by his actions.
“Buffy Anne Summers. I love you more than life. You are my heart’s desire, my soul mate, my best friend,” he began, using the very same words he’d used back in July. “From the very first moment I laid eyes on you, I was drawn in by your fire, your beauty and your spirit. And from that time on, every deadly jab, every spinning high kick, every sarcastic little one-liner, every ridiculous, ballsy plan you managed to pull off, just astonished and intrigued and infuriated and enchanted me more, till I couldn’t hope to get you out of my head.
But that wasn’t enough, oh no. Soon, your strength and your stubbornness, your initiative and your independence captured my reluctant heart as well. It took me a long time, with lots of missteps along the way, to earn your friendship, your trust and finally your love. But Buffy, you’re the bravest, most loyal, most determined and most forgiving person I’ve ever met. You make me want to be a man for you kitten, the sort of man that will be a good dad to our kids, the sort that will walk next to you, fight at your side and be your partner every single day of our lives together; the sort of man that will never, ever leave. And you make me wanna let the whole world know, in no uncertain terms, that you're my girl.”
Buffy reached out to cup his face. She’d laughed and sobbed and nodded her way through Spike’s speech. Now she held her breath and looked down between her outstretched arms at the box he held there. It was open, and the most stunning ring she’d ever seen stared boldly up at her. The huge oval gemstone in the middle was a deep raspberry red colour, its rich colour offset by a halo of diamonds.
Overwrought by emotion, all she could do was nod, and drop her left hand down between them, fingers splayed out in anticipation. Spike grinned and pressed a kiss against her forehead as he plucked the ring out of the box and slid the gold band onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly, and the setting itself was large enough to be pretty darn impressive, without overwhelming her small hand.
“Oh my God, its so, so beautiful. I love it,” Buffy squealed, holding her hand out at arm’s length. “But it must have cost a fortune, how …?”
“Interesting tale that,” Spike said as he grabbed Buffy’s hands and sat back down on the couch beside her. “Hate to think about the Powers playing their fucking games with us, but I have to admit, that whole trip through Krubera, which never would have come about if you hadn’t been taken, seemed pretty bloody fated. Not only did I find the weapon pouch, but I managed to prise another little treasure out the dross and slag of that hellhole.”
“You found the ring in the tunnels?”
“No. But I found a big ol’ chunk of alexandrite plugging up the flooded tunnel. What it was doing there is anyone’s guess. Done a bit of research since, and its certainly not native to that mountain chain. Most famous alexandrite comes from the Ural Mountains, almost 1500 miles away. First of it was discovered less than 200 years ago, which is much more recently than I figure that weapon bag was secreted there. And the mine’s been cleared out of alexandrite for nigh on a hundred years, which is way older than the current decade of exploration into that cave.”
“Hmmm, weird. So what, you think the Powers planted it there?”
“Dunno pet. Maybe. Either way, my finding it was meant to be. Took it up to a reputable lapidary in London. They were gobsmacked by the size and quality of the rock. Managed to cut not only your stone there, but also three mid sized gems and half a dozen small ones. Traded in one of the mid sized stones for the fourteen diamonds and two of the smaller ones for the labour involved in cutting, polishing, designing and making the ring. Hope you like it pet.”
“Like it? I absolutely love it. It’s exactly the style I would have chosen if I’d designed it myself. How did you know that this is the style I’d like?”
“Had this style in mind kitten, on account of how much you seemed to like Cat’s ring. It’s a similar style right, and I knew you loved her ring. But it depended a lot on what the stonecutter could split off the rough. All turned out pretty well I figure.”
“I’ve never even heard of alexandrite, yet one piece is worth fourteen diamonds. It must be pretty expensive.”
“It is luv. And what’s more it has a quality that makes it very sought after. See how it’s a red colour at the moment?” He waited for Buffy’s nod. “Well that’s because we’re viewing it under incandescent light. But when you look at it tomorrow, out in the natural light, you’ll find it’s a gorgeous green colour. Pretty much matches your eyes if you ask me.”
“So, you mean it changes colour? Wow! I had a mood ring when I was a kid that changed colour whenever I got happy or sad, or something like that.”
“Bloody hell Slayer, its not a sodding mood ring. Those poxy rip offs were nothing but a liquid crystal thermometer with a bit of cheap glass pasted on the front, mounted on a tacky brass ring. Alexandrite is an extremely rare and valuable gemstone, not to mention the diamonds, the 14k gold and the platinum.”
“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to insult you or the most gorgeous, astonishing ring in the world. I can’t wait to see it in the morning, I bet it’ll look even more beautiful.” Buffy paused, staring down at the ring while thinking. “Do you think it might have mystical qualities?”
“Don’t know pet. Wouldn’t be surprised given the circumstances of the stone’s discovery. Why? Can you feel it doing something?” Spike asked; his voice flushed with concern.
“Yeah, yeah I can. When I look at it, it kind of makes my heart pound and my eyes water. And I feel all squishy and squealy inside, like I just want to throw myself at the person who gave it to me and kiss him and squeeze him and never let him go. I think its making me heat up inside too; like I feel all breathless and tingly and achy,” she glanced up at him from beneath her fluttery lashes, “You know? Down there! Maybe, maybe it’s got some sort of thrall.” She bit her lip and looked at him earnestly.
“Oh you little…! Had me going there for a minute. All right, maybe we’d better test this thrall out. Could be dangerous. I‘ll put away the wrapping paper and your cocoa cup and you go and pop your bit of black lace on. Have a funny feeling that that little lingerie set might have its own powers of thrall over me. Best to find out now no doubt.”
“Okay,” Buffy said, quickly popping to her feet and heading off with the peignoir set, the photo frame and the ring box in her hands. “I’ll be waiting. Oh and Spike,” she paused in the doorway, crooking her finger at him to draw him over to her. Once he was standing in front of her she looked up, pointing out the mistletoe that Dawn had pinned to the lintel. Grinning, she kissed him sweetly, then whispered in his ear, “Love you so much, more than my mangled words could ever express. I mightn’t be very good with the talking, but I’m pretty good with the doing and I can’t wait to show you a token of my love and promise. Merry Christmas baby.”
With that she sauntered off towards the bedroom, leaving Spike dazed and scrambling behind her.