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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
Completed:
2005-01-18
Words:
26,467
Chapters:
8/8
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31
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3,536

The Gift of Christmas

Summary:

Here is part one of my Spander Christmas fic. I will be posting a part everyday, with the last part on Christmas day.
It is kinda H/C with the emphasis on the comfort.
I hope you enjoy.
Thank you to Amejisuto for the title. MWAH!
Unbeta'd
Summary: Spike tries to give Xander the best Christmas ever.
Rating: Tame with a few naughty words
Warnings: Future parts contain obsessive amounts of Christmas fluff.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – Seven days until Christmas

Chapter Text

The Gift of Christmas
by Suki Blue

 

Chapter 1 - Seven days until Christmas

Xander sat down on a cold, damp bench and sighed. What a night. What a week. What a life. He always tried his best to stay in good spirits, but as time went on it became increasingly difficult. It was hard trying to smile and laugh at one of Buffy's latest tales of comedy shopping or Willow's silly magical mishaps, when all you wanted to do was lock yourself in a dark room and throw away the key.

When did this happen? When did he make the transition from joker and class clown to pretender? A big fake, that's what he was now. Living life on automatic mode. Laughing and commenting in all the right places, but none of it coming from his heart. His soul felt empty.

So here he sat. One week before Christmas and he was out on his ass. Kicked out by his miserable, drunken father. Of course, all he had to do was sleep rough for a night and crawl back in the morning. No doubt his sober, but hung-over father would accept him back in flash. The Harris household always needed a skivvy

Xander made a decision. He was not going to crawl back. Not this time. Not again. Even if it meant sleeping rough for the rest of his life, he was never going back.

Xander shivered. It was getting cold. He needed to find somewhere with a little more shelter. He got up and shuffled slowly away.

**

Spike drifted over to the bench and scented the air. Chocolate faintly filled his nostrils. Must be the Harris boy. He looked up and spotted Xander walking away in the distance. Spot on.

Spike looked at his watch and sat in the exact spot that Xander had vacated.

Bloody Christmas, Spike thought with a touch of bitterness. Everybody happy, everybody smiling, excited, throwing parties and erecting stupid pointy trees. He was best off out of it. Still, it would have been nice to have been asked. Not that he wanted to attend a party or put tinsel on a tree and he definitely didn't want to be stuck in some overheated kitchen making Christmas nibbles.

Spike lit a cigarette and stared off into the distance. What had the Harris boy been doing lurking about at all hours? Getting bloody cold, it was, considering what the weather was normally like and it looked like it was going to rain. Stupid twat hadn't even been wearing a jacket. Not that wrapping up warm would make much difference to his health. Chances were, that the whelp would die from a demon attack before he died from the cold. Spike sighed heavily in annoyance. He'd better go catch up with the boy and escort him home before he really did become a demon supper. Can't have the Slayer losing one of her sheep just before Christmas, eh?

William the convenient, to the rescue.

**

Xander stared up at the dark sky and cursed as the fist few drops of rain spattered over his face. Just lovely. Nowhere but a dark alley to rest his weary head and no coat to shield him from the rain. He drew his knees up and hugged himself. So things had come to this, yet again. And why was it that the fact that it was Christmas made this seem so much harder, so much more painful? He thought back to previous Christmas' and nodded to himself. Yup, Christmas was always painful. Full of disappointment and sadness. As a child he'd loved it, well, up to the age of about five, he'd loved it. Then he had finally realised that the holiday season was never like it was on TV. No sparkling decorations. No oven hot, star shaped cookies. No joyful family parties or dinners. No presents that made your heart leap and your eyes bulge. A Harris Christmas consisted of fighting, drunken screaming, crappy presents and a lot of crying. Crying, it seemed, was a Harris tradition on Christmas day. They all did it, every year.

Xander wiped away bitter tears with his sleeve. What had been his worse Christmas? Oh, that was an easy one. Ten years old and he had begged for an entire year for a puppy. His parents had eventually agreed and stupid, naive, idiotic Xander had been overjoyed. Christmas day had arrived and Xander had charged down the stairs as fast as his little legs would carry him. There was no puppy. There were no presents under the tree, no turkey defrosting on the kitchen table, no Christmas breakfast waiting for him. There was nothing. His parents had gone. At first Xander had thought that maybe they had popped out to get some last minute supplies at whatever store would actually be open on Christmas day. Or maybe they had gone to pick up his puppy? It was hours before Xander was able to admit to himself that they had gone and left him. Xander had been forced to spend Christmas totally alone. For two whole days he had taken care of himself, fed and entertained himself. The time had passed slowly with no-one to talk to him, tickle him or make him laugh. Not that his parents had ever actually done any of those things, but a boy could dream. The one thought that had haunted him throughout those two miserable days had been, if only he had his puppy. That was all he needed, one little puppy, a furry friend that would accept his love and give it back in endless, enthusiastic quantities.

Xander was sobbing now. Loud, unashamed sobbing. He had held all this in for too long. He had to get it out.

**

Spike trotted fasted along the side walk as the rain turned from a light shower to a drowning veil. Bloody whelp, Spike thought as the rain turned him from drop dead gorgeous to drowned rat in three point six seconds. Brat better be bloody grateful. Spike followed Xander's scent to a nearby ally and was nearly knocked off his feet by the aroma of misery and defeat. It was the scent of someone that wanted to die. Spike stopped at the entrance to the ally and listened to Xander's desperate sobbing. Was he too late? Had Xander already been attacked and was now lying broken in this dirty ally while he waited for merciful death to take him? Spike sniffed the air again. There was no blood, and he hadn't seen any demons nearby that could have hurt him. He crept closer and sighted the boy curled up behind a dumpster. He didn't look particularly hurt, but it was hard to tell when Xander had his face buried in his arms and knees. Spike shifted uncomfortably, his keen vampire senses were telling him that the whelp was upset and Spike was not very good at making people feel un-upset. Under normal circumstances, Spike would have hot-footed his way to the nearest demon bar and immediately forgot that some poxy human had been crying like a girl. But something in those wracked sobs and the way that Xander had curled up on himself, his body shaking with wild tremors, made him want to help, to find out what was wrong and make it right.

Spike could still clearly remember a time when he had found himself on the streets, shivering in the dark. How he'd wished that somebody could have helped him then, given him a warm drink, or a crumb of bread, even just a kind word would have helped. But they passed him by, every single one of them, no-one had cared. It was almost destiny that allowed him to seek such terrible revenge once he had been turned. That was retribution alright. Spike had often wondered if he would have still earned his nickname if he had been treated better while he had been human.

And now, seeing Xander in such a state, it tugged at Spike's heart. This wasn't Xander. This wasn't the bouncing, happy-go-lucky, annoyingly cheerful bloke that he was used to seeing and that just didn't sit right. Spike had always sensed pain on Xander, but the boy had always hid it well. He wondered what had happened to put Xander in such a state.

He had to do something.

Stepping in front of Xander, Spike squatted down and placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. The sobs quietened and Spike felt the body beneath his hand, tense. Spike frowned; Xander couldn't know that it was him. What the hell was he playing at? Did he want to get himself killed? Oh. Bloody hell.

"Xander? It's me."

Xander silently cursed his luck. Of all the demons in all the world, why did fate throw him that one? As if things weren't fucked up enough, now he was going to have to put up with the bleached wonder laughing and mocking him. He screwed his eyes up tight and hoped that Spike would just go away.

"Xander? You alright, mate?"

Silence greeted Spike's question.

"Dunno if you've noticed, what with all the balling, but its bucketing down out 'ere. Why don't we get you home?"

Xander lifted his head and shrugged off Spike's hand from his shoulder.

"No."

"No?" Spike repeated. "C'mon, whatever has happened, whatever is wrong, you can talk to me. But we need to get you home first. You're bloody drenched and so am I. C'mon, we'll go back to yours, grab a couple of beers and talk, yeah?"

"No, I-I can't."

"Can't what? Drink beer or talk?"

Xander looked up and Spike's heart melted right into Xander's large misery filled eyes.

"I can't go home. I haven't got a home."

"Eh? Don't talk daft, course you've got a home!"

"Not any more. They kicked me out."

"Oh. Sorry, mate. What for?"

"I'm not even sure. There was this big fight between mom and dad and I just got caught in the middle. Next thing I knew, I was being thrown out the door."

"Is that what all the tears are for? C'mon, they can't stay mad forever. Come back to mine, get some sleep and I'll bet things will look better in the morning."

Xander wiped at his eyes.

"I wake up every morning and it never looks better. It's too much, Spike. I can't go on like this anymore. I can't live like this."

Xander turned his head and the distant streetlight illuminated his face.

"Wot's that!"

Spike grabbed Xander's chin and angled his face towards him.

"Who did that, Xander? Was it your father?"

Xander let more tears slip away and he nodded his head as much as he could with Spike's hand holding his face.

"He do that a lot?"

"Sometimes," Xander said sadly.

"Right. I see."

Number one rule, you don't hit your kids, not like that. Spike certainly had been a fiendish bundle of evil in his day, but he would never have done that. Not that he ever had any kids to test that theory out.

Spike was angry. If he was to grind his teeth anymore he was going to end up with blunt fangs. With one swift movement he grabbed Xander and pulled him to his feet.

"We're going."

Xander tried to pull away.

"No! I told you, I can't go back there..."

"We're not going to yours, we're going to mine."

"No, I don't want to be a pain..."

"You'll be more of pain if you make me stay out in this bloody rain! Now, shift your arse, 'cos I'm wetter than a beaver's backside."

Xander managed the tiniest of smiles as he allowed himself to be led away. Okay, so someone does care, sort of, kinda, in a Spikey sort of way.

**

Xander followed Spike into his crypt and shivered some more.

"Yikes, I think it's colder in here."

"That's just 'cos you're all wet."

Spike pointed to the ladder in the corner of the room.

"Get yourself down there, pet."

Xander gulped.

"Um, that's your bedroom."

"Very observant, detective Harris."

Xander stared at the vampire with wide confused eyes.

"It's warmer, you prat! Not gonna take advantage of you, if that's what you're thinking?"

"I wasn't!" Xander lied. "I was just...um...sorry, I'm not thinking straight."

"You don't say. Go on then, climb on down. I'll follow you in a sec."

Xander nodded and did as he was told. No point in trying to upset the nice, kind vampire. Now there's a sentence he never thought he would think. He reached the bottom rung of the ladder and realised that it was warmer. Perhaps it was due to the pockets of warm air that were being pushed through the underground tunnels and collecting at certain points within the caverns. Hm, that sounded scientific. Xander wondered if he was in any way correct. He also wondered why he was wondering about pockets of warm air.

"Glad to see you made it down without breaking your neck."

Spike realised how sarcastic he'd sounded and tried to backtrack.

"I actually didn't mean that quite how it sounded."

"Spike? Why are you helping me?"

Xander's voice was sad but full of hope and Spike wasn't even tempted to be cruel or to give an excuse.

"'Cos you need help. Because you're in pain and I know what that's like. Because someone's gotta help you and you're too stubborn to bloody ask for it. Because you've been good to me and I wanna return the favour. Because I like you and don't want to see you hurting. That enough for you?"

Xander smiled

"Plenty. Thank you."

"Pleasure. Now get your kit off?"

"Huh?"

"Clothes. Off."

"Um, why?"

"Blimey, luv. Use your noggin. You're soaked. Gonna catch your death."

Spike spotted that defeated look in Xander's eyes again. This was all so wrong. Xander should never have that look.

Xander dropped his gaze to the floor and shuffled uncomfortably.

"I...I don't have anything else to wear."

"Right. Err, 'ang on, then."

Spike rushed over to the corner of the bedroom and ruffled through a large black trunk. He came up victorious with a pair of black sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

"There you go, bung those on. There's a towel on the bed too."

"Thanks...um...could you not...um...look?"

"Oh! Err, yeah, sorry, I'll just go up and erm, you know, do stuff. Back in five."

Spike backed up and hastily climbed the ladder. He cursed himself when he reached the top. Why was the big bad so suddenly nervous? Could it have something to with the fact that there was soon to be a totally naked and wet Xander towelling down in his bedroom?

Spike adjusted his jeans, threw himself down on the couch and flicked on the telly. Not that he actually wanted to watch anything; he just needed to give Xander some time to change.

He started to picture Xander towelling himself down again and he was forced to give himself a mental kick up the backside. This was no time for vampire hormones. Xander was obviously down and Spike was determined to help him. Why? Because it was Christmas.

**

Xander waited for Spike to disappear from sight before he began to undress. His shirt came off easily enough, but his jeans were a bit more of a problem. Soaking wet, they were firmly stuck to his skin. After a good five minutes of struggling, Xander started to feel a little panicky. Spike could be back any second, and he was going to get a real eyeful. Xander tugged with all his might and finally they jeans gave way and peeled from his now tender skin. He used the towel quickly and slid on the clothes that Spike had left him. They were a little on the snug side, but at least they were dry. Xander bundled his wet clothes in the corner and climbed onto the bed, huddling himself against the wall.

Why now? Why did he suddenly feel so bad now? Why not all the other times that he'd been kicked out? Or all the other times that he'd argued with his parents? This certainly wasn't the first time that things had escalated to a fist in the face. Maybe it was just time. Time for things to finally give. Time for him to admit to himself that his life sucked. Time to admit that he was lost, with no-one to turn to. Okay, so maybe that last part wasn't quite true. It seemed that a certain vampire was willing to help him. And he hadn't even had to ask. And talking of certain vampires, wasn't that said vampire standing right there?

"Huh?"

"I said, I brought you some ice."

"Not that I'm not grateful, Spike. But, I'm freezing here; I don't think ice is going to help much."

Spike rolled his eyes and plonked himself down on the bed.

"It's for your face, idiot. It looks swollen."

"Oh, good point, thanks."

Xander reached out to take the ice pack, but Spike kept it out of reach.

"Get under the covers first, pet, or you're gonna freeze your knackers off."

Xander fingered the velvety covers. They were surprisingly luxurious. Thick layers of red and gold, matching pillowcases and a thicker throw that was flung over the end of the bed. It looked too good for the likes of Xander Harris.

"Go on, then. Bed ain't gonna swallow you up. And I changed the sheets first thing this evening."

Xander climbed under the covers and with help that was really unneeded from Spike, he was laid down and tucked in. Normal circumstances would have produced some kind of protest, but on this *one* occasion, he let Spike coddle him. It was nice to have someone take care of you, even if you were a little suspicious of their intentions.

Spike finished tucking Xander in and he sat back. Noticing that he'd tucked just a little to well, he leant forward and loosened the covers.

"Comfy?"

"Actually, yeah. This is much nicer than my bed."

"Well, good quality, it is. Got it for a good price too."

"I have no doubt. And I have no doubt that there is story behind it. And I also have no doubt that I don't want to hear it."

"Your loss, pet," Spike said as he placed the ice pack against Xander's cheek.

"Eeep! That's cold."

"Came from a cold place. Luv?"

Xander felt his eyes fill with a tired heavy feeling. Whether it was the cosy, comfy bed, or Spike's soft deep voice that was lulling him to sleep, he wasn't sure.

"Mmm?" he replied, his voice now thick with approaching sleep.

"What do you want to do?"

"You mean, am I going back?"

"Yeah."

"No. I've had enough. Thanks for letting me stay tonight. I'll get out of your hair tomorrow."

"And go where, pet, hm?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly. You stay here as long as you need to. Just until you can get yourself enough dosh to get your own little place."

"Spike, you don't need me hanging about. I'll only get in the way. I always get in the way."

Xander's eyes had slipped completely shut and Spike could tell by his slowing heartbeat that he was seconds away from sleep.

"Not in the way. You're staying. No arguments."

"Mm. 'kay."

Xander drifted into sleep, but Spike spoke to him anyway, knowing that he wasn't going to get a reply.

"Could really use the company"

 

TBC......

 

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