no plot just cutesy vibes + spike being christmassy and shit
also ik im publishing this in March but oh well :)
Is it weird that I'm getting all hot and flustered watching my boyfriend cut up vegetables? Yes. Yes, it is. But I can blame it on the fact we've not seen each other for a fortnight (and that he looks damn good in that tight, black t-shirt).
I'm surprised he hasn't noticed me yet. He can usually sense when I'm near, but I suppose he's just concentrated. He can't be very practised in the cutting-up-carrots department. I smile as I watch him work to the radio that's playing classic Christmas carols.
As silently as I can, I shrug off my coat and hang it up, but my lip balm falls out of my pocket - the sound is thunderous in the still quiet of the crypt. Spike's head jerks up and he points the knife at me with an icy glare. It melts away when he realises it's me.
"Surprise," I say through a smirk as Spike drops the knife and, in a haste, washes his hands.
"Weren't expectin' you back 'til late, love."
"As I said, surprise." I meet him half way with a hug. He smells like soap.
I normally spend Christmas with the Scoobies, but this year, I spent the two weeks leading up to the holiday with my sister, Sarah. It was a cosy, hot-chocolate filled time, but I missed Spike a lot.
"How was your trip?"
"It was good. Sarah's good - her and Brian are engaged now! Oh my gosh, guess what - my Aunt Margret got arrested for speeding. Spent the night in a jail cell!" I gossip, wrapping my arms around his torso. I don't know how he's in a t-shirt - I'm freezing. "What's with the carrots?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Buffy called - we're expected to take veg to Christmas dinner. I was just getting a head start."
"Ah, I see," I trace my fingers up and down his arms, making him shiver, "Do you have to do that now, or..."
"Oh," Spike smirks, catching my drift, "Certainly not."
His lips capture mine and we end up a tangled mess on the floor in no time.
-------------------
"Do you think we'll play monopoly this year?" Spike asks, slicing into a freshly washed parsnip.
I roll my eyes, thinking back to last Christmas when Giles flipped the board after a little too much eggnog. "I vote no."
"Good. Are we bringing any games? Niblet's gonna want to play something."
"UNO?"
"Could do," Spike muses, passing me a carrot, "What about charades?"
"You... you're suggesting charades?"
"What?! I just think Dawn will like it..."
I shake my head and place a row of sliced veg onto a tray in a neat row. Spike passes me his full chopping board and I fill up another tray before sliding them into the oven. Christmas is tomorrow and I'm so excited but I'm also tired.
I've been sleeping at night (instead of in the daylight like usual) due to my trip to my sister's, so as the late evening approaches, I find myself yawning.
"What's your sleep schedule like?" I ask Spike as I flop down on the sofa and rest my eyes.
"Crap," he replies. "But I've been kipping at night for the past few days so I'm not knackered on Christmas."
"Aw, come here then." I call him over but he stays in the kitchen, fiddling with something I can't see. After a moment, he joins me on the couch and squashes me in the process.
He lays in between my legs, his head on my chest, looking up at the ceiling. It's decorated with glow in the dark stars that don't glow anymore because I put them there years ago. We should probably take them down.
"I like how you've decorated." I tell Spike. We did the tree before I left, but the tinsel and festive candles that brighten up the crypt are new.
"I know how much you like cinnamon."
"'Tis true," I yawn, "It smells even better, now I'm a vampire."
We drift off into silence and I doze off, until a robotic beeping startles me awake.
"Veg's done." Spike announces, hopping off me and I sit up, rubbing my eyes.
"Good, great. It's not like I was sleeping or anything."
I can practically hear his eye-roll as he puts on oven gloves and takes the trays out. The roasted vegetables smell heavenly. I know we could survive solely on blood, but where's the fun in that? And Christmas dinner is the best meal of the year.
He sets them on the counter and returns to the sofa in no time, taking my hand in his.
"Let's go to bed."
I follow him to the bed, not bothering to cover my yawn with my hand. We settle under the covers and I can already feel my eyelids drooping.
"You excited for tomorrow?" I yawn again, edging closer to Spike until he wraps me up in his arms.
He yawns too, "'Course. I can't wait to see the look on your face when you open your present."
I smile, "I can't wait."
He blows out the candle on our nightstand and I swear, it's the quickest I've ever fallen asleep.