Dreaming of a White Christmas

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG

Archive: If you've already got my permission, otherwise just ask.

Disclaimer: You know the drill. All these characters belong to Joss and ME and other people who are actually making money off them. I'm not.

Summary: My annual Christmas fic, written for calturner who said she wanted Spuffy, S7, and snow. I hope this suits.

Part III

Buffy felt the chair tipping as she stretched to hang the mistletoe. She gave a little shriek of surprise as she struggled to find her balance, only to miss her footing on the arm of the chair. The next moment, a pair of strong hands gripped her waist, and Spike lifted her down, looking rather annoyed. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

She held up the mistletoe in explanation. "Decorating. I've got to get it up there somehow."

"Then get a ladder, or get your lanky sister to tack it up."

Buffy's eyebrows went up as he stalked away. Apparently Spike was going to be cranky. Great.

She checked herself from calling out something inflammatory in response. Buffy had spent months without Spike. Those memories still stung enough to have her wanting to avoid antagonizing him unnecessarily.

Although there were times when he definitely pushed her buttons.

It had been over six months since she'd found out Spike was alive—or undead. The coven of witches that Giles had worked so closely with in the past warned him of the impending battle in L.A. The warning was very nearly too late. It took time to call in the available Slayers and witches, including Buffy and Willow, and send them all to the battlefield.

The army of Slayers had arrived a couple of hours before sunrise, and they had leapt into the fray. There hadn't been time for Buffy to look for Spike. The horde of demons had threatened to overwhelm them, but the Slayers had beaten them back again and again until the sun rose.

No one was quite sure why, but the remaining demons disappeared with the first rays of daylight, and Buffy finally had a moment to look for Spike.

She went into the Hyperion, looking around anxiously for any sign of the vampire, spotting Angel first among the general chaos. It seemed that Willow was leading the efforts to use the lobby as a triage center. "Angel!"

"Buffy." He looked exhausted, his clothing torn and bloody, his face bruised. "You came."

She smiled. "I never miss an apocalypse."

He managed a smile, barely more than a twist of his lips. "It's good to see you."

Buffy put a comforting hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Wes is dead," Angel murmured in response. "And Gunn. I don't think he made it."

"I'm so sorry," Buffy said. Then, just over Angel's shoulder, she could see Spike standing in the lobby, staring at the two of them. He whirled and disappeared through a doorway. "Spike!" she called out. "Dammit."

Angel called out after her, but Buffy ignored him. She wasn't thinking about what had been said the year before, giving Angel hope she hadn't meant to offer. Buffy wasn't thinking about cookies or baking or even her on-again, off-again boyfriend back in Italy. All she was thinking about was Spike and reaching him before he did something stupid.

Like not telling her he was back among the living, so to speak.

She finally caught up to him in the hotel kitchen. Spike appeared to be looking for a way out, but the only available door was the one Buffy had just walked through, and she didn't have any plans to let him go without a fight.

He looked the same. There was blood on his face, and he looked just as beaten and bruised as Angel, but he was the same old Spike. Buffy went from relieved to see him in one piece to pissed as hell in a heartbeat.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded angrily.

Spike glared at her in response. "I could ask you the same thing," he shot back. "Why don't you go back and see to your sweetheart?"

He made the word sound dirty.

"What sweetheart, you bleached idiot?" Buffy retorted. "Has the peroxide finally killed off the rest of your brain cells?"

Spike snarled. "You're here for him, aren't you? You were looking pretty cozy there."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You are unbelievable! I was saying hello and asking Angel where you were. Or I would have asked if I hadn't seen you turn tail and run."

Spike faltered slightly. "What?"

"I came for you." Buffy shrugged. "Well, and because it was an apocalypse, and I'm still a Slayer."

Spike eyed her warily. "What about Angel?"

"It's considered polite to say hello to people you haven't seen in awhile," Buffy responded. "Or have you forgotten that?"

He shuffled his feet. "And what about your boyfriend?"

Buffy frowned, trying to figure out who he could be referring to. "Huh?"

"The Immortal?"

"How do you know about him?"

Spike wouldn't quite meet her eyes. "Never mind how I know. What about him?"

If Buffy hadn't been so happy to see Spike, she would have smacked him. There was no way he could have known about the Immortal unless he'd been keeping tabs on her somehow. "He's not my boyfriend."

"You looked pretty friendly with him not that long ago," Spike replied.

Buffy's eyebrows went straight up. So, Spike had been in Rome, and he hadn't even stopped in to say hello. "What do you want me to say, Spike? He and I go out sometimes, we have some fun, but it's not serious."

"Andrew said you were moving on."

"I was trying to!" Buffy nearly shouted. "What did you expect, Spike? You were dead, and as far as I knew, you weren't coming back. Why shouldn't I try to live my life? I thought that's what you would have wanted."

All the anger drained out of him in that moment, and he turned away from her, his shoulders tight with tension. "I did. Thought you knew I was back. Figured Andrew would have told you."

"He didn't." Buffy was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know why he didn't, but I plan on finding out."

Spike's next words were mumbled, but Buffy could just make them out. "Told him not to say anything. I didn't figure he'd follow through."

Buffy shook her head. "I can't believe you," she said, unbelievably hurt. "You die and come back and don't even tell me? After everything we've been through, you didn't think I'd at least want to know that you were alive?"

"Still dead, Buffy."

"You know what I mean!"

"I didn't know if—" Spike broke off, obviously unwilling to go on. "It doesn't matter."

"I meant it," Buffy said, wondering if that would do the trick. Something had to break this impasse between the two of them. "I meant what I said."

"You—really?" He looked at her then, and Buffy could see hope kindled in his eyes. "You didn't move on?"

"Did you?"

He scoffed. "Right. I got my soul for you. You don't move on from that, Buffy."

"And you think I could move on that easily?" She stared at him. "I missed you."

She couldn't stand not touching him for one more moment. Buffy grabbed onto him for all she was worth, feeling a sense of relief when he returned her embrace. She could feel him shaking, and she knew she was probably trembling too.

"I missed you, too."

That had been months ago, though. Buffy hadn't quite dragged Spike back to Rome with her, but she'd used every weapon in her arsenal to persuade him to accompany her, short of force. Sometimes she wondered if Spike had come only because he knew their relationship pissed off Angel.

Things were good between them. Maybe not great, but they were good. Buffy just figured that it would take time to work out what their relationship was going to look like. It was new, so that only made sense.

And sometimes Buffy had to wonder if love was enough. If—as much as they loved one another—they just weren't meant to be together.

It probably didn't help that just as she and Spike were getting reacquainted, Buffy was finding herself with a renewed passion for being a Slayer and fighting the good fight. She'd been trying to help Giles with the rebuilt Council from Rome, and Buffy was trying to decide what kind of a role she wanted to play. Did she take an active part in whatever disturbances cropped up, or was her role going to be more passive, training and locating new Slayers?

It hadn't been something she wanted to discuss with Spike, largely because she didn't know what he wanted, and there was no way Buffy wanted to scare him off. She would have been thrilled to have him declare that he wanted to be a part of this new thing, but he hadn't. Spike had remained silent on his plans for the future.

Buffy just had to hope that those plans included staying with her.

She had wanted to do something special this Christmas, just her and Dawn and Spike. Now that Dawn was going to university, they didn't get to see much of one another. Spike and Dawn had had the summer to get reacquainted, and Buffy thought that her little sister might have a better relationship with the vampire than she did most of the time.

It wasn't fair.

Even though Giles had issued an invitation to spend the holidays with him—including a rather grudging invitation to Spike—Buffy had wanted to get away. She had a feeling that she wouldn't get the quality time with Spike that she wanted. So, they'd rented a little place on the outskirts of a town in the Lake District. This vacation was supposed to be a time for them to explore their options. Instead, Spike seemed to be intent on sulking. Buffy had no idea what to do.

"Hey, guys!" Dawn called out as she came through the front door. "You should have come down to the village, Buffy! The decorations are incredible."

"We'll have to go after dark, when they have the lights on," Buffy replied. She hadn't wanted to leave Spike behind to accompany Dawn when her sister left to explore the nearby village earlier in the day. Buffy didn't think he would mind if she left for a while, but she'd thought they would have a chance to talk. Instead, Spike had slept, and she had tried to decorate.

Dawn shrugged. "Whatever. I'm sure it'll be cool then, too. Where's Spike?"

"In the kitchen, I think," Buffy replied.

Dawn frowned, lowering her voice. "Is he still in a bad mood?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah."

"You know, I can hear the both of you! Vampire!" Spike's voice floated out of the kitchen, and the sisters exchanged a look.

"We wouldn't have to talk behind your back if you weren't in such a horrible mood all the time," Dawn yelled.

Spike was silent, and Buffy sighed, trying to remind herself that Christmas was better with Spike around, even if he was in a bad mood. At least she wasn't alone for the holidays again, and neither was Spike.

"I'm going to get cleaned up," Dawn said. "Is Spike cooking?"

"I'm assuming so," Buffy replied. "We'll eat in about an hour, either way. Do me a favor and hang the mistletoe first?" Buffy handed the decoration to her sister and then wandered back to the kitchen. "You want to tell me what's going on, or are you going to act like the Grinch for the rest of the week?"

Spike stood in front of the stove, looking down into the blood he was warming. "I'm fine."

"Because you've been in a bad mood for the last week, and you haven't been happy for the last couple of months, Spike," Buffy continued, as though he hadn't replied. "Is it me? Do you not want to be here?"

"No."

Buffy swallowed. It didn't sound like Spike meant it. "If you're sticking around for me, and not for you, please tell me," she said, bracing herself. The little niggling doubt that had been in the back of her mind for the last six months exploded.

He hadn't told her he was back. He hadn't come to her. She'd had to convince him to come to Italy with her. Maybe Spike was here more because it was what she wanted rather than being what he wanted.

Maybe Spike wasn't in love with her anymore.

"Please don't lie to me."

Spike turned to face her, seeing the hurt and the fear on her face. "Buffy—" He fell silent. Spike didn't know how to describe what he was feeling—like he was at loose ends, like he had no purpose. A few months ago he'd been part of a team, trying to save the world. Now, he was the Slayer's boyfriend, playing second fiddle to the real hero.

It wasn't the sidekick gig that was getting to him. Spike had never really been the leader. He'd had minions, but he'd been a slave to Dru's whims. He had followed Buffy willingly, but she had wanted him there. Had needed him there. In L.A., he'd been his own man, although he'd gone along with Angel's plan.

Here, though—there was none of that.

"It's not about you, luv," Spike finally said. "It's—been feeling a bit at loose ends is all."

Buffy took a deep breath. "I don't think I understand."

"'s hard to explain."

"Try?"

"What am I doing here, Buffy?" Spike finally asked. "I was doing something in L.A. I had a purpose. Now what am I?"

Buffy didn't know what to say. She wanted to walk away from this conversation. She was scared to death of where this was going. The Slayer thought she understood what Spike was going through. She'd felt the same way for the first few months she lived in Italy, trying to decide what she wanted to do, what she wanted to be.

She had lived with a sense of constant tension for so long, she had no idea what to do with herself when the battle was over.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I don't think that's a question I can answer for you." The silence stretched between them, and Buffy took a leap of faith. "What do you want to do?"

Spike laughed shortly. "Hell if I know." He reached out to touch her cheek. "I'm sorry, luv. I'm ruining your holiday."

"It's okay," Buffy replied. "As long as you're here."

"I'm here," he promised. "That's about the only thing I know right now."

Buffy captured his hand, holding it in place. "Maybe you should decide where we go next, then."

Spike looked uncertain. "You sure about that? What about your Watcher?"

She shrugged. "Dawn's not living at home anymore, Spike. It's just us that we have to worry about. We could ask Giles if he needs us somewhere, or we could just—go. We could pack up the apartment and just travel for a while."

"You think we could find some trouble to get into?" he asked a little plaintively. "I miss—"

"The fight?" Buffy just smiled. "Don't you think I understand?"

He shrugged. "Thought you wanted a normal life. I figured..." Spike trailed off. He still wondered what they were doing together most of the time. Still wondered if it was him she really wanted. Spike had seen her standing in the lobby of the Hyperion that day with Angel, touching his arm in a tender gesture that had been easy to mistake for something other than friendship. Especially given what had happened the last time he'd seen Angel and Buffy together.

She'd laughed at him later, pointed out that Angel's life was in L.A., and that he had a kid nearly her age. Even if Buffy had feelings for Angel, she couldn't be with him.

Spike hadn't told her that those words make him feel like second best all over again. If she couldn't have Angel, Spike would be the best substitute.

Buffy had been so insistent on wanting him with her, though. She had assured him through a hundred different words and deeds that she loved him.

Spike figured it was one of those situations where you had to be careful what you wished for. He'd wanted Buffy, and now he had her. Strange, but it wasn't anything like he'd dreamed it would be.

Spike had never known that there could be anything he wanted more, but right now he wanted to do something worthwhile as much as he wanted to be with her. He'd wanted to give Buffy what she seemed to want so badly, but he hadn't known that it would feel as though a piece of himself was dying—being starved and stifled.

This vacation had been a nice idea. They were supposed to talk about their future—but Spike didn't know if they had one. They had come to get some time to themselves, as a family—but he wasn't so sure that he wanted this.

Spike needed a purpose, and Buffy seemed to crave peace. He hadn't been able to help thinking that they were going in opposite directions yet again.

And yet he hadn't been able to bear the thought of leaving her.

The funny part about wanting Buffy—or wanting to be with her—was that Spike had never given much thought to what would come after. There had always been an emergency, an apocalypse. He'd never thought there would come a day when being at Buffy's side and being in the middle of a battlefield didn't coincide, at least occasionally.

Now, of course, they both had a choice. Buffy had chosen to stay out of the fray for the most part. She had come to L.A. because every Slayer had been needed, but she wasn't fighting on a daily basis. Spike had assumed that she didn't want to.

Of course, they hadn't really talked about it. That's what this trip was for. Still, Spike knew that Buffy had done enough. He didn't want to push her into the fight again, not if she wanted a rest, and yet he wasn't willing to just let go of his own desires anymore either.

It was that inner battle that had him snarling and out of sorts.

Buffy watched the emotions play over his expressive face, and then said quietly, "Whatever you want, Spike, we'll find a way to work around it." At his wince, she modified her statement. "I just mean that we'll find a way to get what we both want, without giving up anything that we really need."

"You're retired," he pointed out.

Buffy shrugged. "I took a break. There's always evil to fight, Spike. There's always going to be."

"I don't want—" Spike stopped, struggling to put it into words. He never had any trouble telling other people what they were thinking or feeling. It was just explaining his own needs where things got so twisted between heart and mouth. "I don't want you to feel like—like you're not done, luv. You—you deserve the time out, if that's what you want, but I—"

Buffy laughed and sighed, almost in one breath. "Stupid vampire. Is that what has you so twisted up? You used to try and tell me that we were the same." He opened his mouth to argue, but she shook her head. "We were, in a way. We still are. I had a break, Spike. That's really all I wanted. From here on out, though, I think too much quiet would make me die of boredom. I want to get back to working as a Slayer, I just wasn't sure what that would look like. There's definitely plenty of work for the both of us."

Spike felt like an idiot—not a new occurrence where Buffy was concerned. The relief that hit him was powerful. "Buffy, I—"

Her own relief was too great for words. She pulled his head down, kissing him thoroughly, teasing, caressing—reminding him without words that they shared a dual fate.

Maybe they always had.

"It's snowing!" Dawn's shout interrupted their kiss, her footsteps thundering down the hall. "You guys have to look!" She stopped short in the kitchen door, rolling her eyes and giving a mock-snort of disgust. "Can you guys not do that for fifteen minutes?"

Buffy gave her sister a quelling look. "It's not our fault if you walk in on us whenever we're kissing, Dawnie."

Dawn seemed to contemplate making a snide remark, and then changed her mind when she saw the smile on Spike's face. He really hadn't been smiling much lately. "So are you guys coming?"

"What about dinner?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "We can eat at the pub. It's dark enough, and the lights will be out."

Buffy and Spike exchanged a look, and he shrugged. "Up to you, pet. It's your vacation."

"No," she corrected him. "It's ours."

They all got their coats on, a little of Dawn's enthusiasm beginning to infect Spike and Buffy as well. The pub wasn't too far away, and even with the snow drifting down, it wasn't all that cold. Spike kept an arm around Buffy's shoulders, allowing her to bury her hand in his coat pocket. They cast one shadow across the snow, and Spike smiled, remembering Buffy's Christmas wish, thinking that those days felt like another lifetime. "You finally got your wish, luv," he said softly.

"What?" Buffy asked, frowning as she tried to remember. Dawn was meandering ahead of them, humming a song under her breath. Buffy thought it sounded like a Christmas carol of some sort. "Oh, that one," she said, recalling Spike's question. He'd been so broken that night, and she'd been able to offer him so little in comparison to what he gave her. Buffy wondered how long it would take before she felt as if she had given him enough to repay all he'd done.

Maybe she never would. Maybe that's what real love looked like—giving with no thought of repayment. Odd that a vampire would be the one to teach her that lesson.

"I guess so," she said, looking out over the landscape, thinking that all the snow in the world wouldn't have made up for Spike's absence. "So what's your Christmas wish?"

Spike just pulled her closer. "I already got it."

For the first time in a long time, it looked to be a merry Christmas for both of them.