Chapter Text
"Is it morning yet?"
The words were whispered, coming from a small figure standing in the bedroom doorway, dressed in red Santa pyjamas and clutching a battered and obviously well-loved teddy bear, the light from the hallway nightlight creating golden glints in her blonde hair.
When she didn't get any response she tried again, the whisper a lot louder this time.
"Is it morning yet?"
Buffy groaned and rolled over, feeling there was something interfering with what was a most pleasant dream; something about herself, Rupert, a large hot tub and scented bath oil. Okay, there was a pink spotted cow too, but she was trying to ignore that part of it. A moment later her now well-honed mother's instincts kicked in and she opened her eyes to the darkness, alert for any problems or dangers.
Beside her, her husband continued to sleep the sleep of the just. _Or the totally exhausted_, she added to herself with a wicked smile as she pulled herself up into a sitting position.
She spotted the small intruder almost immediately. "Is that you, Miri?" she called softly. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Is it morning yet?" four year old Miriam Giles asked again. "Can I get up and see if Santa came?"
Buffy glanced at the bedroom clock, which shone 2:07 at her in solid, uncompromising red numbers. "No, sweetie," she said firmly. "It isn't morning. No Santa yet."
That wasn't entirely true, as she and Giles had added the last of the Christmas presents to the already oversized pile under the tree before they had come up to bed. But the help provided to Santa by normal, boring adults was a harsh reality little Miri didn't need to be exposed to just yet.
Miri thought about that for a moment, then sighed loudly. "When will it be morning?" she asked finally.
"After you go back to sleep again," another voice rumbled quietly and Buffy looked over to see Rupert awake and trying hard not to laugh. "Santa only comes when little girls are asleep."
Miri thought some more. "Can I sleep in your bed?"
Buffy and Giles exchanged understanding, resigned looks. "Of course you can, love," Giles agreed and with a whoop of delight that was rather too loud considering the time of night, Miri clambered onto the bed, bounced her way up from the bottom end and snuggled under the covers between them, proving once again that she had the manoeuvre down to a well-honed art.
Buffy found her a pillow and she curled up happily between them with Albert Bear cuddled in her arms, wide awake and clearly ready to talk.
"Santa's bringing me a bike," she informed them confidingly.
"Is he really?" Buffy asked, knowing there was no way Miri was going to go back to sleep until she'd got this out of her system. She punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape and resigned herself to giving up a portion of her own night's sleep.
"How's he going to fit it down the chimney?" Rupert asked, still amused.
"Oh." Miri sounded totally crestfallen, a hint of tears in her voice. "A bike's too big," she concluded unhappily.
Buffy threw her husband a dirty look and wrapped an arm around the little girl, smoothing her hair with her other hand. "It's all right," she promised soothingly. "It's magic. Santa can use his magic to get bikes inside if he wants to."
Rupert shrugged his shoulders and looked so suitably apologetic that Buffy thought she might have to forgive him for the careless comment. He adored Miri and would never intentionally do anything to upset her. But no-one's brain works as properly as it should at two in the morning and Buffy rather thought that yes, she would forgive him - after he'd made up with her suitably of course.
"Magic," Miri repeated, and Buffy was relieved to hear that her voice was calm again. "Like Auntie Willow and Auntie Tara?"
"No," Giles answered. "It's special Santa-magic, especially for getting bikes down chimneys. It's different."
Miri considered that. "Okay," she agreed finally. "But he won't come if I'm awake?"
"Oh no," Buffy said firmly. "Little girls and boys have to be asleep for Santa to come."
Miri screwed her eyes up tight and announced firmly, "I'm asleep."
Buffy and Giles exchanged looks as Buffy kept smoothing the little girl's hair, knowing that if she wasn't asleep now, she would be soon.
As Miri's breathing smoothed out and deepened, Buffy carefully reached across her to thump her husband on the arm. "Really, Rupert," she hissed in patent mother-tones, guaranteed not to wake sleeping children. "Did you have to say that?"
"I was still asleep," he protested in a matching voice. "It's the middle of the night."
"It's the night before Christmas," Buffy pointed out. "Didn't you ever go wandering to see if Santa had come yet?"
"We called him Father Christmas," Rupert answered. "And I wouldn't have dared get up before Mother came to wake me." He smiled suddenly. "I used to get a _lot_ of reading done on Christmas morning."
Buffy chuckled softly. "That's my man. Head in a book from the age of what? Six?"
"Three," Giles admitted. "I was a bit precocious when it came to books."
"Three?" Buffy repeated. "That's sick."
Giles smiled. "Thank you, love. From you, that's a compliment."
"You're still in trouble," Buffy warned him. "You shouldn't have upset Miri like that."
"I know," he agreed. "I'm sorry. You covered well for me, though."
"You did okay at the end, too," she conceded.
"So am I forgiven?"
"I'm thinking about it," she told him.
Giles gave her a deliberately lecherous look. "I'll make it up to you when we don't have a child in the bed between us."
Buffy grinned. "I'll hold you to that, Mister." The grin softened into a smile. "Love you, Rupert."
He smiled back. "Love you, Buffy."