"Pet?" came the sleepy question that startled Buffy into nearly dropping the box she was holding. Setting it back on the shelf she spun around and saw Spike awake, propped on one elbow, the chains binding him to the wall glaring against his naked chest.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Blushing and pursing her lips she spun back around to resume pawing through boxes.
"What are you looking for?"
"Christmas stuff. I know it's down here somewhere. We didn't do anything last year. I was...well, you know how I was. But this year, even with the growing crowd of little slayer wannabes and the impending doom, I thought we should decorate. Dawn deserves some normality."
"So do you, Buffy."
She shrugged, then yipped in joy at finding a box of red bows and fake greenery. Unfortunately it was the bottom box of a stack of four that went nearly to the ceiling. While being this high had saved the boxes from last year's flood, they were too high for her petite frame to reach. "Can you help me here?"
The rattle of chains made her blush in chagrin. "Sorry." Leaving the box, Buffy went to fetch the key, then unlocked the manacles. She frowned at the redness around his wrists. "You know, they aren't necessary."
"Yeah, luv, they are," Spike said softly, then slipped from the bed to go fetch her boxes for her. Buffy watched his jean-clad butt muscles tighten and his shoulders ripple, and sighed softly, then went to fetch each box and set it on the stairs.
"Dawn will be home in a few minutes; I'll send her down to help tote these up. Giles and Xander are doing the manly thing of hunting down the Christmas tree, and Willow is baking Chanukah cookies. We're going to mull cider and string popcorn tonight while we decorate the tree. Do you...do you want to join us?"
Spike smiled, but shrugged. "Haven't actually celebrated the true meaning of Christmas for a long time. Dru liked presents, but I haven't been to a tree trimming since I was alive." He sank back onto his cot and reached for his cigarettes.
"I'd like you to come." Buffy sat down next to him, crossing her legs Indian style. "What was it like back then? Trimming the tree?"
"Well, we'd only had them in England for about forty years, but we made it festive enough. We used real candles, of course. Amazing that there were as few fires as there were each year. And we strung berries and made ornaments out of dyed paper and cloth. Mother loved her hand blown glass ornaments from Germany. She treasured those. Father bought her a new one every Christmas. After he passed, I continued the tradition."
"That sounds really nice." She smiled at him and he ducked his head in embarrassment.
"Some demon I am."
"You weren't a demon then. It's hard for me to picture you back then, doing normal human type stuff."
"We had cider, too, though it was the hard stuff."
"Hard?"
"Fermented, like beer."
Buffy wrinkled her nose. "What a way to ruin apples."
Spike chuckled and set aside his cigarettes unlit. "It's an acquired taste. I would say that putting popcorn on your Christmas tree is quite the waste."
"Not much popcorn ever makes it," Buffy admitted. "Dawn eats most of it."
"Hey, don't blame me! You're the popcornaholic," Dawn snarked from the stairs. "Are these the ornament boxes? Come on, we need to check the lights or go get new ones before the guys come back with the tree. You coming to help, Spike?"
Looking at Buffy and the wistful happiness on her face, Spike nodded. "I guess I am."
"Cool. Grab a box." Dawn picked up the smallest one and started back up the stairs.
"You heard the general," Buffy laughed, rising from the cot with Spike behind her.
"Yeah, wonder where she gets that bossy side," Spike snickered.
"I wonder. No dipping your popcorn in your blood."
"Yes, ma'am."
Buffy grinned and hoisted two boxes into her arms. "Be careful with that last box, please. Your mom wasn't the only mom that collected ornaments."
With tender reverence, Spike took the final box and followed her up the stairs.
End