"Oh come on, just one," Dawn wheedled as she knelt next to the tree.
"Don't look at me, niblet. Not my rules," Spike replied as he lounged on the couch sipping a beer.
Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I thought girls could get around guys much easier but Willow and Tara never had the number of rules you have."
"Not me," Spike stressed again. "The only rule I have is that you wear a chastity belt until ten years after you're married."
Rolling her eyes at him, Dawn rose and stomped into the kitchen. "Xander, Spike won't let me open a Christmas Eve present."
Looking up from the stove where he was stirring a pot of spaghetti, Xander smirked. "He's a traditionalist."
"Am not," was hollered from the living room.
"Any way, don't you want to wait till tomorrow? Santa might bring you even more."
"Xander? How old am I?"
"Um...six?" He ducked the hot pad she threw at him. "Two and a half?"
"I can't believe that Giles thought you and Spike were better guardians than either Willow or Tara after they broke up," Dawn muttered, but lightly, letting Xander know she was teasing.
"I don't recall Giles giving his okay until you spent two hours on the phone with him begging him to agree to you living with me," Spike snickered from the doorway, draining his beer. "You just wore him down and drove him insane."
"He maintained enough sanity to make Xander co-guardian," she replied.
"I maintain that you drove him insane."
"Hey," Xander complained with no heat. In the two months since the three had been living together, they'd all learned to get along in a weird way. It was nothing like living with Tara and Willow but it was working. Amazingly enough Xander and Spike even got along most of the time.
"When will the Christmas spaghetti be done?" Dawn asked.
"As soon as you set the table," Xander replied, tasting the sauce. "And maybe, just maybe, if you clean your plate, you can open one present."
"Yes!" Grabbing the stack of plates and silverware, Dawn danced into the dining room.
"Caver."
"You'd have caved at the first flutter of her doe eyes if it wasn't for me laying down the rules."
"...Always was a sucker for doe eyes."
Xander snickered and gestured to a bottle of wine. "Make yourself useful and pour that."
Spike plucked a third wine glass from the cabinet and immediately staved off Xander's protests. "You know she'll just whine if she doesn't get any."
"You're a bad influence."
"Don't you know it," Spike laughed.
Xander smiled back. "Seems to be working for us."
"I figure if we can get her to eighteen without her getting pregnant, addicted to drugs, or imprisoned, we're doing pretty damn well."
"We make the weirdest parents ever."
"Oy! Not a parent. I prefer the term partner in crime in raising the niblet."
"As long as we make it clear we're not partners in any other ways."
"You wish."
"No, you wish."
"Stop bickering! The presents are calling," Dawn yelled from the dining room.
"How old is she again?" Spike asked.
Xander snickered and lifted the pasta pot off the stove. "I think Christmas brings out the child in everyone. Maybe even you."
"...Maybe."
End