Oh the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we've no place to go…


It was in the air.

Finality had a smell similar to the scent of impending doom. Buffy had thought she’d known finality before, but it was never as pungent as it was now. If she moved her hand through the air she could almost feel it slipping through her fingers. The fact that she couldn’t grasp onto finality frightened her.

But it also gave her hope. There would be an end, but it wouldn’t be this night. It might be tomorrow, but at least her end would be of her own making this time around.

Like the night before any battle, Buffy sat alone and pondered the possibilities. What would happen if she died? What would happen if she lived? Why would it matter?

It made her head hurt, to think about these things, but it was necessary. It helped her realize what her past had made her, and what her present had in store for her future. Knowing that is a real comfort when a greater part of your destiny has already been planned.

But on this night, what could be her final night, she stopped. With so many people whose lives were in jeopardy, it made absolutely no sense to be alone and to think of herself. But that’s what she’d always done, and there was a saying about old habits that fit very nicely here.

Buffy thought about her friends who have stuck by her from the beginning, about how their lives have changed and about how they’ve stayed the same. She thought of her sister and her future, because somewhere deep inside Buffy knew that Dawn had one. She thought of all the girls in the house who, like her, never asked for any of this to happen. Like her they only wanted to be protected, but as a Slayer, or even as a Potential, that protection comes from oneself. Buffy thought about Giles and realized that even though their relationship had fundamentally changed over the last two years, he was still Giles. She still needed him for the same things, but not as much anymore. But she hoped he knew that he was still needed.

And then there was Spike.
 

Spike held the amulet before him, watching the light play off of it. What exactly was this thing supposed to do, anyway? Buffy hadn’t been real clear. It was powerful, she’d said. Only a champion could wear it, she’d said. And she’d chosen him as her champion.

That part she hadn’t said.

He wondered what she was doing now. The last night like this, before they went up against Glory, he’d seen her. She had been restless. She’d been angry and confused, and yet calm and composed all at once, something that still amazed him. All those nights when she’d been gone he’d thought of that last night, the one where she’d invited him in. That night he really got to see Buffy, and she’d seen him.

Spike heard her coming before he felt her. That unnerved him, but when he tore his eyes away from the amulet he saw her there. Not The First or some cheap imitation, just her.

He rose from the cot and they stared at each other, neither willing to break eye contact, but when Buffy slowly began to move towards him her eyes lowered.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, “about too much, to tell the truth. But I realized something.”

She was in front of him now—intimately close—the closest she’d ever been to him without touching.

“Nothing will ever be the same.”

Spike smiled when she met his eyes. “That kind of goes without saying, love.”

Her eyes fell to the amulet dangling from his hand and she took it in her own. She balanced it in her palm and felt the weight of it before fiddling idly with the chain.

“I don’t like saying goodbyes, but I do it anyway. I used to think that made me some sort of masochist, but I know now that it’s necessary.”

“So… you came down here to say goodbye, then?”

“Spike,” she said soothingly. “This may be the last chance we have. I’m not saying that I’m resigned to an end, but if it comes and I never told you…”

He almost felt his heart, then. Could’ve sworn it was thumping in his chest. Spike waited to hear the words he’d always longed to hear, but they didn’t come.

“I’ll regret it,” she said instead. “I want us to do this right, Spike.”

“I…” He looked away from her, unable to stomach the sad look in her eyes. “I thought we were okay.”

“We are,” she assured him quickly. Buffy touched his face and forced him to meet her eyes. “Trust me.”

Spike’s brow furrowed in confusion. He was about to tell her to come out and say what she wanted to say when he felt her hands against his chest. He looked at them, wondering what they meant by being there, but more importantly what she meant.

“Everything has always been about me. Even you. And I don’t want that. If this is going to be the end for either or both of us, I want you to know that that’s changed. I do think of you. I feel for you. I…”

He felt the words even though she didn’t speak them, but he still didn’t believe. Spike had given up any hope that Buffy would ever love him. But at least she felt for him enough to try.

“I want to be with you, Spike. If this is going to be our last night, I want us to share it.”

The hunger that had been denied for the past year propelled him forward. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, but then he hesitated.

“What do you want, Buffy?”

Her breathing was erratic, but her eyes were calm with honesty when she touched her hand to his face and answered him.

“I want to make love to you.”

And that was the end. Their apprehension, their insecurity, and their doubt all flew out the window in that moment. Spike kissed her, nearly brought to tears by the feel of her lips against his again. Buffy clutched his t-shirt as the kiss deepened, and Spike lifted her into his arms, literally sweeping her off her feet.

The amulet fell to the floor when they lay down on the cot together, causing them both to stop and stare at it. Buffy reached for the chain and pulled it up, unable to believe that they’d already forgotten about the next day, so caught up in the moment were they. Spike moved to take it from her hand but stopped, instead linking his fingers through hers, squeezing the amulet between their palms.

“You still here?” he asked timidly.

Buffy nodded and kissed him, pulling both of their hands to rest over her heart. The amulet was pushed aside when their clothes came off and their bodies merged, forgotten once again as gasps and sighs filled the silence that had once belonged to the basement. Spike was going mad all over again, the feel of her hot skin against his and the heat of her lips almost too much for him to take. With a stifled cry he fell against her, thanking the Lord above that his soul was anchored, for he surely would’ve lost it had it not been.

He felt her lips against his fingers, and when he raised his head from her shoulder he saw the amulet in the hand that was holding his. She seemed surprised to find it there, too. He wanted to tell her that he loved her in that moment, but resisted the urge, having been denied too many times in the past. Spike wanted this moment, here with her, to be something she could remember him by.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Buffy whispered, her voice sounding stronger than it had in the past year. “Not if I don’t have to.”

“You won’t,” he promised. “Not if you don’t have to.”
 

It doesn't show signs of stopping
And I've bought some corn for popping
The lights are turned way down low…


“We should go.”

“You’re probably right. We’ve stayed long enough.”

“Robin’s hurt, and I don’t think a first aid kit’s gonna do the trick. He needs a hospital.”

“Some of the others aren’t doing so well, either.”

“At least they made it….”

“Yeah, but they won’t make it much longer if we don’t get a move on.”

“Right, we should leave. Buffy?”

She felt Giles’ hand on her shoulder, but Buffy couldn’t tear her eyes away from the gaping hole that represented the past few years of her life. Her house, the Bronze, the university – it was all gone. The cemeteries she’d fought in night after night were now at the bottom of a huge crater.

Buffy frowned. “He didn’t make it.”

Dawn and Willow exchanged worried glances.

“We know, Buffy,” Giles said gently.

She shook her head, freeing herself from the darkness she’d begun to fall into. “You’re right, we should go. Someone’s bound to notice the mess. We don’t want to be blamed for it.”

 

The nearest stop on the road they were traveling on was L.A. It was growing dark when they arrived, rushing their more seriously wounded to the hospital, while the others found a hotel to stay in for the night. The girls who still had families were making phone calls, crying when they heard the voices of their loved ones, letting them know they were alright. At some point everyone ended up in Buffy and Dawn’s room, sitting around the TV as they watched the national news coverage on the sinking of a city beneath the California sun. Some of the girls exchanged high fives and congratulated each other on putting such an evil place in the ground, but the others wept as they watched the helicopter footage of the crater that had been their home. Xander was the first to leave, a concerned Willow following close behind, and when Dawn turned the TV off the rest went to their respective rooms. Giles lingered in the doorway, watching Buffy’s immobile form curled up on the edge of the bed, her eyes fixed on the blank TV.

“Will she be alright?” he asked Dawn quietly.

She frowned at the sad picture her sister made. “I think so. I’ll take care of her.”

Giles smiled and placed a hand on Dawn’s head, smoothing her hair. “I’m sure you will. Goodnight, Dawn.”

Buffy looked up when the door closed behind him.

“Everyone’s gone?”

“Yeah.”

Buffy lowered her eyes to the floor.

“Do you want the shower first?” Dawn asked, feeling awkward.

“I’m okay.”

“You’ve got cuts all over you, Buffy. Are you sure you don’t want me to clean some of them for you? That one on your head looks pretty nasty.”

“It’s just blood. There’s no cut.”

“What?”

Buffy stood and started removing her jacket, revealing the bloodstained shirt beneath. Dawn’s eyes bulged.

“I was stabbed, and I thought that it was going to kill me, but…”

She lifted her shirt and underneath was a large, crusty circle of dried blood on her stomach.

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore. It hasn’t, not since…”

Dawn nodded in understanding.

Buffy dropped her shirt and turned towards the bathroom.

“I’ll shower first.”

Tears blend with water so well, but it’s blood that colors it.

 

When we finally kiss goodnight
How I’ll hate going out in the storm
But if you’ll really hold me tight
All the way home I’ll be warm…


“It really is cold outside,” Dawn pointed out, pouting as she rubbed her arms and looked out the frosted window. “Maybe we should turn the radio off. I think we’re giving the weather bad ideas.”

“Let it snow, Dawn,” Buffy said with a grin, putting more tinsel on the Christmas tree in Giles’ living room. “We’re finally getting a white Christmas. Be thankful.”

“It’s not like we haven’t had one before.”

“Come over here and help me decorate if you’re so cold. It’ll help get your blood flowing.”

“Nah. I’ll let you do it. Besides,” she added with a laugh. “You seem to be doing fine on your own.”

Buffy regarded the tree, tilting her head to take it all in. “I don’t know. I think we should’ve gotten a bigger star to put on top.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the star, it’s the monster of a tree you picked out. If you didn’t have slayer strength I doubt we would’ve been able to haul it in. You’re lucky Giles has high ceilings.”

One of the doors closed down the hallway and Giles was soon seen walking past, a paperback in one hand and an apple in the other. He continued to read as he walked past the living room, but he soon reappeared in the doorway with disbelieving eyes.

“Good Lord. That’s bigger than the tree in the town square.”

“It’s bigger than the one in Rockefeller square,” Dawn teased. Buffy threw tinsel at her. “Have Xander or Willow called yet?”

It took Giles a moment to answer, so enamored was he with the colossal tree standing in the middle of his living room. “Willow should arrive in an hour, but Xander’s met some delay in Frankfurt. He might have to catch an early flight tomorrow.”

“What?” Buffy and Dawn shrieked in unison.

“But Giles, tomorrow’s Christmas Eve! He has to be here for that!”

“I’m sure he’ll make it, Buffy, but we can’t control the weather. Just be grateful that heavy snowfall is the only thing we have to worry about this year, hmm?”

Buffy couldn’t help but smile. “Right. I’ll have to add gratefulness to the whopping piles of Christmas cheer.”

“Well, try not to add anymore whopping piles of tinsel to that tree. It’s in danger of falling over, already.”

Buffy turned and frowned at her masterpiece as Giles left, unable to understand why everyone thought it was so over-the-top. It was Christmas, something that she used to love. She may not have decorated this much in the past, but damn it, she was compensating.

Well, maybe overcompensating. Just a little bit. Some of the baubles were a bit much.

“Ooh. When Willow gets here, she said we could make gingerbread cookies. Wanna help?” Dawn asked eagerly as she played with a string of tinsel.

“I don’t know. I like eating them, but when I make them they seem to become a little unedible.”

“Inedible.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Why oh why do I send you to fancy schools?”

Their smiles melted when they heard a knock at the door. The girls exchanged confused looks before walking down the hallway towards the front door.

“Do you think Willow’s flight was early?” Buffy asked as they drew nearer.

Dawn didn’t answer, and Buffy knew why. At least, she did once she opened the door and saw who was on the other side.

“Hello, Buffy.”

Her hand tightened around the doorknob as she steadied herself. There he stood, his shoulders covered in snow, his hair as white as ever, wearing a coy grin.

And she couldn’t move.

“God,” Spike breathed in amazement. “You look… beautiful. Don’t know why I’m so surprised, but I guess it comes from not seeing you in half a year.”

Buffy stared at him. He was talking to her.

“Dawn,” he said, tensing slightly when he noticed her. She’d been standing silently behind her sister. “Hi. I didn’t see you.”

Neither of the girls appeared to be gifted with speech. Spike bounced lightly on one foot as they both stared at him.

“You, uh, gonna invite me in? Or do I have to stand outside in the cold all night?”

Buffy blinked, feeling for the first time in the last minute like a person instead of a statue. “I… I-I can’t. Um…”

“GILES!” Dawn screamed suddenly, running down the hallway. “GILES!”

Her shouts faded into the background while Buffy and Spike remained, their eyes fixed on one another.

“Are you cold?” she asked, more out of curiosity than concern.

“No, I was just playing on your sympathy.” He smiled nervously, but she didn’t laugh. “I… I honestly didn’t know what I’d say when I saw you again. I’m sorry if I’m not doing this right, but I’ve never done this before. Or, well, I guess I have…”

“Spike?” she said a little too loudly, stepping forward. “Is it really you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“How?”

“It’s a really long story, pet. One saved for a different setting.”

She blinked in surprise as tears fell from her eyes.

“Oh, love,” he said soothingly, reaching towards her. Spike flinched as his hand met the barrier. “Don’t cry, now. It’s okay.”

With those words she launched forward into his arms, throwing him back a step. Spike wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face into his shoulder, weeping.

“I left you there… I left you behind. If I had known…”

“I told you to leave,” he said, releasing a breath of relief. “And it was right of me to. We would’ve both died if I hadn’t. I wanted you safe.”

Buffy pulled back and stared into his eyes. “So you did die?”

“Not permanently,” he replied with a smirk, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Can’t be too hard for you to believe, now, can it? Bloke’s died and come back before on you.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

Spike’s eyes went sad for a moment. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before removing his hand.

“You don’t have to say anything, love. I just wanted to see you again.”

She was about to protest, to tell him that she didn’t mean for her words to come out that way, when loud footsteps could be heard echoing through the hallway, and soon a frantic Dawn and Giles appeared at the threshold.

“Spike,” he gasped once he locked eyes on the vampire. “My God, it’s really you.”

“Invite him in,” Dawn urged the man, her eyes locked on Spike’s. “Giles, invite him in.”

“It’s okay, Niblet. I know I’m not wanted in this house. I’ll just…”

“Spike,” Giles interrupted. “Please, come in.”

Buffy watched as Spike’s face seemed to tighten, as if holding back some emotion. But as he walked over the threshold he seemed to lose his control, and all she could see was gratitude. Gratitude at finally being accepted.
 

Buffy and Spike sat in the two armchairs by the fire, watching the flames flicker in the hearth as an uncomfortable silence fell over them. He’d told them all his story, about how the amulet had come to Los Angeles, why he’d been gone for so long, and how it was only now that he could return. Imagining Spike as a ghost was somewhat difficult for Buffy. He was such a tactile being, always touching and feeling, fighting and…

It was an uncomfortable silence.

But now he was here, and they were alone, since Giles and Dawn left to pick up Willow at the airport. Dawn had given Spike a fierce hug before she left, one that Buffy felt was an attempt to make up for the rift that had grown between them before he had died. She didn’t appear to want to leave, but knowing her sister, she probably wanted to give Buffy some alone time with him.

Another thing Buffy was grateful for this holiday season.

“How long are you staying?” Spike asked suddenly. “I heard you’d be coming here for Christmas, but…”

“Wait, you heard? From who?”

“Faith. Stopped by to see her once I reached New York, hoping she could help me find you. Angel wasn’t exactly forthcoming.”

“Oh.”

“I was pretty sure you’d be here, though. Rupert wasn’t hard to track down, and if you weren’t here I’d ’ve…” Spike paled suddenly. “I’m sorry, I’m not… this doesn’t sound right.”

“No, I understand,” Buffy assured him.

“I sound like a stalker.”

“No you don’t. You just wanted to find me.”

“Do you want me to go?”

Buffy looked to the fire, unable to look into his pleading eyes. It hurt to see that in him still.

“No. No, I really don’t.”

Spike eased back into the chair a bit, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his face. “Do you want me to stay?”

She turned to face him then, noting the tilt of his head as he observed her. He didn’t just mean tonight, but the answer was still the same.

“Are we okay, Spike?” Buffy asked in a whisper. “It’s been so long, and Sunnydale is miles away and long gone, but I… I still… I wish I’d saved you.”

Spike leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked into her eyes. “You did save me.”

“No. No, I didn’t.” She shook her head, feeling the tears fall. Damn him. “You weren’t supposed to die,” she continued. “I wanted you to live. You deserved so much, Spike. After all that you’ve done, I owed you more, and I never got to give it to you.”

He reached across the space between them and took her hand, which she hesitantly curled around his in response.

“I’m here, Buffy. I came back, and I’m here for you now. I don’t expect you to turn your world upside down to find a place for me to fit in it, but I had to see you. After everything that’s happened, I couldn’t go on without knowing.”

“Knowing what?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

His hand tensed around hers before he answered. “Without knowing if you really meant it. It’s okay if you didn’t, but I have to know.”

“If I really meant…” she began in confusion, before realizing what he was referring to. “Oh, Spike.” Her hand tightened around his. “I meant it.”

He smiled, releasing a shaky breath as he lowered his eyes.

“And I wouldn’t have to turn my life upside down to find a place for you, Spike. You’re still in my heart.”

He lowered his chin to his chest, hiding his eyes from her as he knelt at her feet. Buffy didn’t want him to be lower than she was, or rather she didn’t want to be above him. She wanted to see him. Kneeling in front of him, she placed a hand on either side of his face and forced him to look at her. There were tears in his eyes.

“I used to wish things would be easy between us,” he confessed. “You would love me, and I would love you, and we would be happy. And I still want that. But damn it if I didn’t miss how wonderfully miserable you make me feel.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, I don’t want to make you miserable, Spike. Please, don’t let me.”

He smiled, mimicking her position by cradling her face with his hands. “Wonderfully miserable, pet. You make me feel alive.”

Spike kissed her forehead before resting his own against it, breathing in the scent of her. Buffy couldn’t believe this was happening. Over an hour ago she’d been moderately carefree and ignorant of his continued existence, and now he was here.

And she was wonderfully miserable.
 

The fire is slowly dying
And, my dear, we’re still goodbying
But as long as you love me so…

“I loooooove snow.”

“Do you now?”

“Mm-hmm. It’s white, and it’s cold, and it crunches beneath your boots when you walk.”

“Hey, sounds like me on a good day.”

“Shh! You’re ruining the afterglow.”

“Afterglow? I thought this was a breather.”

“You can’t seriously want more?”

“I always want more of you, Slayer.”

“Shh. Stop. Back to snow.”

“Buffy, you can’t hear the snow falling.”

“Yeah, you can. Just look out the window and watch it fall onto the balcony railing. You can hear it.”

“No need to whisper, love.”

“Shh.”

“Okay, I’ll whisper. But if I’m watching it, I’m not hearing it. I’m seeing it.”

“But if you listen, you can hear it.”

“Love, I’m a vampire, and even I can’t hear the snow fall.”

“Then you’re busted. I’ll have to get me a new vampire—Ahh, Spike! Wha… floor is cold!”

“Yeah, just like the snow. Thought you might like it.”

“Get off!”

“Say it.”

“Oh, God. I am not saying it!”

“You have to say it or I’m gonna lock you out on the balcony.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“You… you… ugh. You bastard.”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say…”

“Eee! Fine, fine, put me down! You’re the best sex I’ve ever had, you crazy, sexy vampire!”

“That’s right! Don’t you forget it!”

“Ahh, warm covers! Oh, how I love you...”

“Ahem.”

“Hey, the comforter didn’t just throw me around the room and threaten to lock me out naked in the cold. It’s earned some love.”

“You know why I love you?”

“Because I’m cuddly soft?”

“That, and because you love the blanket like it’s a little fluffy puppy.”

“What? I do not.”

“You’re petting it right now.”

“… so?”

“You’re adorable. You know that, right?”

“It helps when you remind me.”

“I’ll remind you everyday, love.”

“Everyday sounds good. So, will you remind me tomorrow?”

“I said everyday—that usually includes tomorrow.”

“And the next day?”

“Again, that usually…”

“And the day after and the day after and the day after?”

“Buffy…”

“What? C’mon, Spike. Aren’t you happy? I’m happy.”

“Of course I’m happy. I’m always happy with you.”

“Liar.”

“I’m almost always happy with you.”

“Eh, too far.”

“I’m only happy with you.”

“Oh, I like that. You’re a sweet talker.”

“You’re a sweet listener. I love you, Buffy.”

“I love you, too.”

“God, I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

“I’ll try to say it more often, then. ... Especially if it earns more kisses like that.”

“I’ve got more where that came from.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring it on, buddy.”

“Yes ma’am.”
 

Let it snow… Let it snow… Let it snow!