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“Is that my good rum, Spike?” Giles demanded.
“Course it is,” Spike said without pausing in pouring a healthy dose of rum into the eggnog. “Not like Xander buys any of the good stuff.”
“I resent that,” Xander declared, rounding the corner into the kitchen. “I can’t argue it but I certainly resent it.” He glanced at Spike next to the eggnog. “May I assume the eggnog is no longer Dawn friendly?”
“I rescued some before Spike got to it,” Tara assured him.
“And the rest of us will be able to get through this evening.” Spike scooped up a mug of eggnog and drank it all in one go. “Thought you were helping trim the tree.”
“Couldn’t resist the lure of the roast beast, had to get a sniff.” Xander grinned at Tara basting the prime rib, releasing a rich aroma into the room. She looked pleased. “Besides, I’m leaving the angel vs. star argument up to Willow and Dawn.”
“Oh we are not putting bloody angel on the top of the tree,” Spike snarled and stomped out to throw in his two cents.
Giles gave up his contemplation of the wine. As far as Xander could tell, Giles and Spike had no actual business in the kitchen, they were just evading Dawn, the Christmas decorating fiend. “Spike seems out of sorts,” Giles observed as he snagged a bit of beef. Tara covered it again to prevent further predation.
“He’s just grumpy because I made him crawl in the attic after decoration boxes.” Xander tried to make light of it, but he could tell Spike was on edge. “You should have seen him when I threatened to take him tree shopping.”
“It wasn’t a pretty sight,” Tara offered, shoving the roast back in the oven. “Xander, could you set the table for me?”
“No problem, we going china and silver?”
“I think that would be nice, don’t you? But the dishes probably need to be rinsed.”
“I think I can just about manage that. Giles, when they decide, it’ll have to be you or me putting the tree topper on or there could be serious mayhem with a stepladder.” He headed for the dining room and the china cabinet, while Giles grumbled behind him.
Xander pulled six place settings from the china cabinet and brought them back into the kitchen for a quick rinse. Ordinarily he’d feel bad for Tara being stuck with cooking the big meal but she liked cooking and the kitchen was clearly a favored refuge spot today. He’d spent the last several hours hauling in the tree, stringing lights and hanging holly up in the hard to reach places. He’d also been enlisted to build a fire. Didn’t matter how hot it was, the Summers household had a fire in the fireplace on Christmas Eve. He did have to admit the smell of the Yule log lent a certain festive air, even if they had to turn the AC on to keep from broiling.
As he was wiping off the plates he couldn’t help but think how there were fewer place settings than had been there last Christmas.
“How do you think Dawn’s holding up?” Xander quizzed Tara while keeping his gaze firmly on the plates in his hands. He still wasn’t sure he’d made the right call in suggesting they do the whole Christmas thing.
As if she could read his mind, Tara answered, “It was the right choice, Xander. Dawn needs to know that this can still be a wonderful season even if her mom and sister are gone.”
“I guess,” Xander conceded, setting the last plate aside. “It’s not easy though, for any of us.”
“I know.” Tara gave him a one-armed hug while she stirred something on the stove. Xander squeezed her back and took the plates back to the dining room.
From the living room he heard Spike and Giles trying to talk Dawn out of putting even more tinsel on the tree. At this point Xander suspected she was doing it just to bedevil them. He noticed the star now graced the top of the tree so they had obviously prevailed there. Spike and Giles were the only two people who disliked Angel even more than he did.
Idly, he wondered what would have happened if everything had turned out the way it should have, if Joyce, Buffy and Anya hadn’t died, and Spike was joining them for this Christmas dinner anyway. Would Joyce have stuck Dawn with the odd place setting? Somehow he thought she would have taken it herself, making sure everyone else felt special. Joyce had been like that, taking care of them all in her own quiet way, unfazed by the weird curve balls they threw her.
He was just finishing the table when angry words from the living room broke in. “I’m going out for more alcohol, don’t wait up.”
Spike stomped into the dining room making a beeline for the back door. Xander snagged him before he reached the kitchen and pulled him out of the line of sight of the rest of the house. “Not in the mood, pet,” Spike gruffed out.
“Tough.” Xander pulled Spike back against his chest. This conversation might be easier if they didn’t have to see each other. “You’ve been grumping all day, you’re not going anywhere until you talk to me. What’s the matter?”
Xander could tell that something serious was afoot when Spike sagged back against him instead of squirming to get away. “It’s nothing needs talking about.”
Xander looped his arms around Spike’s waist a little more firmly. “Try me.”
He followed up with a nuzzle to Spike’s neck. That always got at least a smile out of him, maybe it would elicit words as well. It might take time, but Xander was prepared to wait. Spike smelled of evergreen, he must have made an attempt to put the star up himself.
“Last couple years, what with the slayer off at college, I’d drop by every once in awhile to visit with Joyce. She was a classy lady, reminded me of my own mum. Each year she’d get me a Christmas present. Nothing much, candles or some knick knack to make the crypt more homey, but she thought of me. She saw me.”
Xander couldn’t help a bit of relief that the gift he had under the tree wouldn’t be rejected because Christmas gifts were poncy, whatever that meant. He’d been worried. As far as Spike’s problem went, that was easy to see because he felt it himself. “Special occasions really bring out the grief. It’s like you can’t ignore the empty space at times like these.”
“Haven’t felt grief in over 100 years, not supposed to be part of the vampire package,” Spike pouted.
“Well, you’re an exceptional kind of vampire,” Xander soothed. “Look, it sucks, not denying that at all, but here’s what I figured out, life is short, at least it is for us humans.”
“That’s it?” Spike turned his face to glare at him. “Life’s short, that’s all you’ve got?”
“Yep.” Xander stole a quick kiss. “And I don’t plan on wasting any of it.”
He let Spike slip out of his arms. Spike stared at him with his head tilted as if he was trying to determine what loco weed he’d been smoking. Then he straightened and pulled on the bad ass attitude. “Guess I don’t want to miss the big do. Glinda’s a right good cook.”
“That she is,” Xander agreed wholeheartedly.