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Buffy felt like she hadn't been asleep ten minutes when she heard her mother calling her. She grumbled as she rolled over. "What?"

"I need you to help me get a Christmas tree. There's a nice farm up the road, but I doubt I can get one home by myself. Some of that Slayer strength would come in handy."

"Can it wait until later?"

"I'd really like to start filling this place with some Christmas cheer," Joyce replied.

"We can't have Christmas cheer in a couple of hours?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"No. We're having Christmas cheer right now. Get up."

Buffy mumbled to herself as she got off the couch. "You know, this could be considered a form of child abuse. And I think that couch is really a medieval torture device in disguise."

"Get dressed, Buffy."

Buffy started towards her mother's room where she'd left her suitcases, then stopped. "Mom, we can't leave now. Spike will be in the cabin all alone."

"Honey, I checked on Spike this morning. He's fine—sleeping."

"That's not what I meant. If we leave, he could escape."

"Into broad daylight with no shelter from the sun for miles?"

"Okay, maybe he couldn't escape. But he could still do something evil."

"Like what? There's not really a lot of 'evil' to be done around here."

"He could…" Buffy frowned, searching for something to say. "He could loosen the top of the salt shaker so if we use it, all the salt will dump out at once."

Joyce raised an eyebrow. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"Hey, that's pretty evil. Too much salt can kill you."

"Buffy, go get dressed."

Buffy grumbled as she made her way to the bedroom.

*** *** ***

"How's this, Mom?" Buffy asked under the strain of the six foot tall evergreen.

"Not quite right. Maybe a little more to the left?"

Buffy muttered under her breath, trying to ignore the assault of pine needles in her face as she moved the tree. "Is this good?"

Joyce scrutinized the tree. "No, that's too far. Go back right again."

Buffy sighed, the tree swaying as she almost lost her balance. "Here?"

"Almost. Move up a bit. It's too close to that back wall."

Buffy tried moving the tree again, but this time she stumbled. The pine came crashing down, pinning Buffy beneath, her arms sticking out from either side. "Buffy!" Joyce yelled, running over to her. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I've had worse," Buffy replied from under the tree. "Think maybe you can help me?"

Joyce attempted to lift the tree, but managed only to drop it back on Buffy, who grunted in pain. Spike walked out of the bedroom, surveying the scene with amusement. "Need help?" he asked.

Buffy lay under the tree, humiliation filling her completely when she heard Spike's voice. If there was one thing worse than being trapped under a Christmas tree, it was being trapped under a Christmas tree and having your mortal enemy see it.

"Spike! We didn't wake you, did we?" Joyce asked.

"Um, Mom, more important issues here than whether or not Spike got a good day's sleep."

Spike contained his laughter as he went over, easily lifting the tree off Buffy and setting it upright again. He made sure the stand was secure before turning back to Buffy, who was by this point covered in pine needles. "That's a nice look for you, Slayer."

"Drop dead, Spike."

"Too late, luv."

"Buffy!" Joyce snapped. "Spike just helped you! You apologize for being rude and tell him thank you!"

"Mom! I am not apologizing or thanking Spike!"

"You do it right this instant, young lady!"

Buffy hung her head, unable to look Spike in the face. "I'm sorry and thank you."

"Apology accepted, Slayer. And you're welcome."

Buffy glanced up slightly, the fury in her eyes quite clear to the vampire. He smirked.

"Um, Joyce—is there any way to the kitchen that doesn't pass the picture window? It's a bit sunny for my tastes at the moment" Spike asked.

"Oh! I didn't even think about that!" Joyce replied. "Spike, I'm so sorry! Are you hungry?"

"A little, yeah."

"Don't worry about it. I'll go heat you up some blood right now. How hot do you like it?"

"Ninety eight point six."

"Of course. I'll be right back."

"Mom! You can't go fix a mug of blood for a vampire. It's just…wrong. Spike can wait until he can do it himself."

Spike turned to Buffy, running his tongue over his teeth. "Nothing you haven't done, pet." He winked.

"That…that was a spell!"

Joyce looked over at her daughter, her hands placed on her hips. "Buffy, as I've said before, Spike is our guest—and right now, our guest is hungry." She turned away from Buffy and smiled sweetly at Spike. "I'll have it for you in a minute, dear."

"Thanks Joyce."

Buffy threw her hands up in disgust. As her mother left the room, she turned to Spike. "You know, this isn't cute."

"What, your pine-fresh look?"

Buffy glared, angrily picking the needles off of her. "No. You pretending to like my mom."

"I do like your mom."

"You said last night your were harassing me."

Spike smiled. "Added bonus."

"Well, you're laying it on a little thick."

"Your point?"

"Almost everything in this cabin is made of wood, Spike. Maybe you should think about that."

"You should watch the threats, Slayer. Mum wouldn't approve."

The vampire and the Slayer stared at each other, their narrow gazes locked until Joyce walked out from the kitchen, carrying a mug with her. The design on the outside appeared to be a frowning Scrooge, but as the warm liquid inside heated it up, the image changed to a smiling Santa. "Here you go, Spike."

"Thank you, Joyce," Spike replied, taking the mug. "I really appreciate it."

"You're very welcome. Anything else I can get you?"

"No, this will be fine."

"I'm going to take a nap," Buffy announced, heading towards her mother's room. "In a bed. You two have a nice afternoon."

"I just don't know what's gotten into her," Joyce said as Buffy shut the door.

Spike smirked, drinking his blood.

*** *** ***

By the time Buffy woke, the sun was down. She could hear Spike and her mother talking somewhere in the cabin, and she groaned. This would be bearable if Joyce would just let her keep Spike bound and gagged, but no. He was their "guest." Buffy figured it could have been somewhat funny if it wasn't so horrifying.

When Buffy entered the kitchen, she realized she had yet to know truly horrifying until that moment. Spike and her mother were…decorating Christmas cookies? "What are you doing?" Buffy asked, even though the answer was obvious.

"Spike's helping me with the cookies," Joyce replied.

"But I always do that," Buffy said in a pitiful voice.

"Well, you decided to sleep the day away," Joyce replied. "But you can help now if you want."

Buffy grumbled, sitting down at the table. It was easy to tell which cookies Spike had decorated. The Santa with fangs and black icing ridges on its forehead was a giveaway. "You do realize he's making cookies of evil, don't you?" Buffy asked.

"I think they're cute," Joyce said. "Very creative." She stood. "Why don't you help decorate the rest of them, Buffy? I need to take a shower. I think I have flour in my hair."

"I'd rather decorate them with you instead of him," Buffy replied.

"I'll be back out in a little bit," Joyce said, ignoring her daughter's angry muttering.

As soon as Joyce was out of the room, Spike grabbed a gingerbread man and began very carefully drawing on a face with icing. Buffy frowned as she realized what he was doing. Pointed hair, fangs, and a prominent brow… She hated to admit it, but it was a rather good cookie likeness of her ex-lover. Spike finished by writing "Peaches" across the cookie man's chest, then looked up at Buffy, an evil gleam in his eye. He ripped the head off with his teeth, giving her a smirk as he swallowed it.

"That's it!" Buffy yelled, leaping up and tackling Spike to the ground. She pulled a stake out from where, Spike wasn't sure, and held it above his heart. "I've had enough of you," she growled.

Just then, Joyce rushed into the kitchen. "Buffy! What are you doing?"

"He made an Angel cookie! And then he bit its head off!" Buffy frowned. "And weren't you in the shower?"

"I was about to be when I heard a commotion in the kitchen. Buffy, staking guests is not appropriate either."

"But, Mom! Angel cookie!"

Spike looked up at Joyce, his expression the very picture of innocence. "Buffy Anne Summers, get up this instant. If I come out of the shower to find you've hurt Spike, you are going to be in more trouble than you have ever been in your life. Do you understand me, young lady?"

Buffy got up, the stake disappearing again. "Yes," she mumbled.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes!"

Joyce smiled. "Good. Now you two play nice." Joyce left the kitchen again.

"One of these days she's not going to be around to protect you."

"And one of these days this chip won't be around to protect you."

They glared at each other for a moment before both sitting down at the table and resuming the cookie decorating.

*** *** ***

"It was horrible, Willow. I had to decorate a Christmas tree with Spike." Buffy frowned, twirling the phone cord around her fingers.

"Was he a total meanie about it?"

"No! That's the worst part! He's like the sweetest guy in the world with my mom around. He's all 'oh, let me get that Joyce' and 'oh, I love to help, Joyce.' It's driving me insane. Granted, that's exactly why he's doing it, but dammit, it's working!"

"I'm sorry, Buffy."

"And do you know what he did today? He made a gingerbread Angel and bit its head off!" Buffy frowned at the sound coming from the other end of the line. "Willow, are you laughing?"

"Sorry, Buffy, but that's kinda funny."

"It was mean, and he's causing me emotional distress and ruining my Christmas!"

"Have you tried ignoring him?"

"What?"

"He's doing it for attention, obviously. If you don't give it to him, maybe he'll stop."

"Willow, it's Spike. He's so annoying it's physically impossible to ignore him."

"Then I don't know what to tell you, Buffy. What's he doing right now?"

"Watching It's a Wonderful Life with my mother."

"That's a scary thought."

"Tell me about it. Oh, did I mention I'm sleeping on the couch?"

"What?"

"Spike gets the bed. There's less sunlight in the bedroom, apparently."

"That does sound rather sucky. I know it doesn't help much, but I am sorry you're not having a good time."

"Thanks, Wills. And I'm sorry I've been bitch-a-lot Buffy, but grr. Spike has me totally at my limits. I don't think I've ever wanted to stake him so bad—and that's saying a lot."

"Just six more days, and you'll be Spikeless again."

"Oh believe me, I know. I'm counting down the seconds."

"It could be worse," Willow replied. "Your mom could be gone, and you could be stuck with just Spike."

"Oh god, Willow, don't say anything that horrible! Stuck up here with Spike—I'd end up like Jack Nicholson in The Shining." Buffy sighed. "Hey, I should probably go. Leaving Spike alone with my mom for too long creeps me out. I'm afraid I'm going to go out there and find them knitting stockings to hang over the fireplace."

"If that happens, call me and I'll work out some sort of emergency rescue."

"Thanks."

"And call me any time you need to vent a little. It helps with sanity-retention."

"Will do. Bye, Wills."

"Bye, Buffy."

*** *** ***

Buffy stood, tapping her foot as the phone rang. Finally, there was a click on the other line and a mumbled word that could've been "hello." "Willow! Thank goodness you're home!"

"Buffy, it's six o'clock in the morning. Where else would I be?"

"Did you do another 'will be done' spell?"

"Huh?"

"Did you do another spell?"

"No. Why?"

"Because my mother is leaving!" Buffy exclaimed. "I'm going to be alone with Spike—just like you said last night on the phone!"

"What! Your mother is going to leave you alone with Spike for Christmas?"

"Not for Christmas. Just for a day, she says. Some sort of emergency at the gallery. But that's a whole day cooped up in here with Spike!"

"Buffy, I swear, I didn't do a spell. It's just a really unpleasant coincidence."

Buffy sighed, able to tell that Willow was indeed telling the truth. "It's official. Someone up there hates me."

"Look on the bright side—with your mother gone, you can spend a night sleeping in a bed instead of the couch."

"I guess that's something," Buffy grumbled.

"Um, now that we've established I didn't do any magicks, can I go back to sleep?" Willow asked.

"Yeah. Sorry for waking you."

"It's okay. Bye."

Before Buffy could say anything, the sound on the other end of the line switched from her best friend's voice to a dial tone. Buffy sighed, hanging up the phone. Slowly, she walked to the living room where her mother was preparing to leave. "Do you have to go?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. I'm really sorry, sweetie, but it'll only be a day. You'll be okay until I get back. You'll have Spike to keep you company."

"That's the problem."

"Honey, he's not that bad. If you'd just give him a chance…"

"I am not giving Spike a chance. He is an evil, repulsive vampire. Maybe you don't see that, but I do."

"I'm just saying you should make the best of the situation, Buffy. Try not to be so negative."

"Not be so negative? I'm going to be stuck in here with my least favorite person ever."

Joyce slung her bag over her shoulder. "Be good, Buffy. Call me if you need anything." She kissed her daughter on the forehead.

"But, Mom…"

"Be good, Buffy!" Joyce said again before walking out the door and shutting it behind her.

Buffy slumped down on the couch. "Well, isn't this just the most craptastic Christmas ever."

*** *** ***

When Spike came out into the living room that afternoon, Buffy was sitting on the couch, staring into the lit fireplace. "Whatcha thinking, Slayer? 'Fire pretty?'"

Buffy whipped around, obviously startled by the vampire's presence. "Go away, Spike."

"Where's your mum?"

"She had to go back to Sunnydale for the day. Something for the gallery. She'll be back some time tomorrow. And before you ask, I'm not getting your blood for you."

"Mum wouldn't like it if she came home to find out you let the guest go hungry…"

Buffy gaped. "So you'd what, tattle on me?"

Spike's only response was a grin. Buffy threw her arms up. "Fine. I'll get your damn blood. But I'm not making sure it's heated to human body temperature!"

Spike grinned wider as Buffy stormed off to the kitchen. A nice comfy cabin and the Slayer fetching his blood… Spike decided it was the best Christmas ever.

*** *** ***

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