![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Gingerbread Homes and Christmas Wishes (pt.1)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chocgood84
Paring: S/X (BtVS)
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Set 4 years post Not Fade Away. Only Spike survived Wolfram and Heart. Otherwise, pure and total schmoop fest. Hey look, I can write not-angst…who knew? Also, decidedly unbetad:)
Disclaimer: Aren’t mine. Never have been, never will be. Don’t sue, this is my fun.
Xander closed the door to his midnight blue Cherokee and pressed the “lock” button as he shoved the keys into his wool pea coat. He wrapped his cashmere scarf just a little tighter, teeth chattering, grimacing as a fresh burst of arctic wind slammed into his face. He made his way across the street and headed towards the entrance to the Post Office on Halston Street.
Once inside the warm and brightly lit foyer, he quickly shuffled through the stack of white envelopes, making sure they were each stamped and addressed properly. He stopped and thumbed over the name on one in particular, “‘Spike’ c/o Dawn Summers”. He gave a heavy sigh, but opened the chute and dropped them into the deposit slot, glad to finally have them out of his hands and on their way.
On his way back out, he glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled wide, enjoying the image he saw. A grown man with short hair, ink black but with a few strands of gray at the temples. The beginnings of crows feet peeking out from under the sunglasses he wore in bright light to mask the glare off the glass eye. The slightest smile lines from years too long ago. Tall and fit, dazzling in a tailored pinstripe suit and black and white wingtip shoes.
Xander smoothed out a wrinkle in his trousers, glanced in the mirror again, and made his way through the revolving door and out into the too dark too soon night, where heavy snowflakes had just begun to descend, though which were already starting to cake the cars and buildings along the street.
****
Having done away with the glass hours ago, Spike drank straight from the bottle of cheap whiskey he’d bought in town earlier. Several gulps later, and he slammed the empty bottle down on the rickety old table right next to the letter he’d received at sunset.
Before he’d even opened the letter, he’d gone to the all-night market just outside of town and grabbed the first bottle of whiskey he’d seen on the shelf. He slapped down a pink 10 Euro note, and got a blue five note back.
That was hours ago, and the letter still sat unopened on the table in front of him, the snick snick snick of the ceiling fan above Spike’s head stirring more noise than air. The dingy light bulb hanging from the fan swayed back and forth, causing shadows to shrink and grow and creep across and around the walls. The Mediterranean breeze blowing softly through the open French doors tried to pry the letter from the table, but each time, Spike would slap his hand down on top of it, as if it was a prisoner trying to escape.
“Xander bloody Harris. After all this fucking time?” Spike slurred, stumbling as he stood too quickly, knocking the old wooden chair to floor. The chair shattered like glass on the terracotta tiles.
“Bloody fucking hell!” He shouted at no one. The room was swimming in and out of focus, duplicating itself and churning like a child’s toy spinning top.
He felt himself falling backward, so he overcompensated by leaning too far forward, and he quickly found himself on his knees, his arms slung over the table and his head resting upon the letter.
In a moment of pure hatred and fury, he wretched himself up from his knees, crumpled the envelope into his fist, and stormed outside, through the small courtyard, and down the beach to where the evening tide was raging against the rocks.
The evening here on the rocks was surreal to Spike. The moon was too white, too bright, and the sea was turbulent as if the Tempest herself were wrecking havoc this night.
Spike screamed obscenities into the wind in every language he’d ever heard, fisted the crumpled paper into a tight ball no larger than a robin’s egg, and in one fluid motion, he launched the letter into the night air. It flew so far, Spike had no idea where it landed, but he hoped it would sink to the depths of the Mediterranean.
He stood there for a long time, watching the waves rise and fall, sucking the salt air deep into his lungs and wishing he’d remembered to get smokes at the market as well. At last, drunk, broken, and exhausted, Spike collapsed to the patch of sand he was standing on and sobbed enough to raise the sea level many meters.
****
Only thirteen days before Christmas, and Xander was sitting in front of the marble fireplace of his front parlor, listening to the pop and fizz of the dry wood, enjoying the smell and the heat, basking in the pleasant glow the firelight gave the room. He sat on the floor before the coffee table, just relaxing and sipping idly at the bottle of beer he’d grabbed from the kitchen on his way in.
He set the bottle down on the richly stained oak, and with one hand loosened and removed the silk tie and unbuttoning his collar; the other grabbing the stack of mail and sifting through it.
Xander’s breath stopped as he came across the last letter in the pile. Stamped in Greek letters, no return address, and “Xander L. Harris,” scripted on the front in formal, elegant script. Without opening it, Xander knew whose this was.
“Spike.” He whispered to no one, as, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, his entire face seemed to regain its youth as a smile blossomed and spread.
“Spike is coming.” He said, and for just one second, he thought the fire had repeated the name, popping and sizzling gently across the room.
He opened the letter and began reading, wiping tears from his eyes to be able to read the finely scripted letters.
****
Xander made one last tour of the house, checking to make sure everything was just right. He made sure the beds were made in all the bedrooms, that there were towels and soaps in each bathroom. He checked for dust, tested the vanilla scented air fresheners, and saw to it that all the windows were spot-free.
This was the same thing he’d done three times earlier that day. Each time he’d found something, but this last tour had turned up nothing other than the sparkling hardwood floors and the richly painted walls.
Xander nodded to himself, smiling slightly, and made his way to the foyer in the front of the house. He pulled on his soft leather jacket, zipping it half way, wrapped a scarf around his neck and pushed his hands into the leather gloves. He checked himself in the large mirror over the marble topped sideboard, making sure everything was just right.
Once satisfied he looked good, he grabbed his keys off the tray, slipped into his boots and left the house, making sure to lock up behind him.
The entire way to the train station, Xander kept breaking into fits of laughter and sheer joy. He was sure the other drivers on the road thought he was skitzo because one second he’d be concentrating on the slick road and the next he’d be laughing hysterically, remembering good times.
****
The soft glow of winter sunlight was trying to poke through the deep gray of cloud cover as the train direct from Great Falls came roaring into the station.
Xander left the Jeep double parked in the fire lane and hopped out, practically bouncing as the train came to a stop, electronic brakes squealing loudly. The doors opened and it seemed as if hundreds of people were getting off. Xander jumped up to see through the rushing crowd, but didn’t recognize anyone.
Grandparents, parents, children, friends and pets were greeting each other all around him, embracing and calling out to one another. A man who was waiting next to Xander yelled loudly and a tall brunette with dark ruby lips and thigh-high boots came running into his arms, laughing as he spun her around.
The platform cleared quickly enough, leaving Xander and only a handful of other people. The train’s doors closed and off it went, the electric buzz grating on Xander’s nerves.
“They’re not here.” He said softly to himself, feeling as if the platform itself fell away beneath him. He turned to walk back to his Jeep and yelped in surprise as he saw them standing there, leaning casually on the vehicle, as if they’d been waiting for him.
Xander barely had time to assess how many where there when a red-headed assault missile was launched at him, and he felt the weight of her hugging him tight. She was quickly followed by one, two, three others.
“Xander! We missed you!” Willow said, tears in her eyes as she clung to him, hard enough to bruise. Xander hugged her back almost as tightly.
“Missed you too, Wills.” He said, kissing her on the top of her head. She finally eased up, and Xander turned to see Dawn, a grown up Dawn, standing there with hands on her hips, one foot turned out and tapping the sidewalk, as if waiting impatiently.
“Hey Dawnie, how’s my favorite slayer sis?” He asked, and instantly her face brightened, and she jumped into his arm, squeezing him almost, but not quite, as hard as willow. When she pulled away, she was crying, wiping the freezing tears out of her eyes.
Next was Buffy, who came up and put her arms around Xander, hugging him close.
“Uh, hey, Buff?” Xander choked out.
“Yeah, Xander?” She said, still squeezing.
“Uh, that whole slayer strength thing?” He gasped, turning blue.
“That’s what you get for making us wait five whole years to see you again, you jerk.” She said laughingly, but letting go anyway. Xander leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek, and she smiled.
Xander turned back around to see Giles standing there, looking ever so much the English gentleman in a trench coat and tweed hat. He clutched a small suitcase in one hand and extended his other.
“Xander. I trust you’re well,” he said, so very proper. Xander took his hand, and pulled him in for a hug too. At first Giles stiffened, but he soon returned the embrace, laughing along with everyone else. “It’s good to see you, Xander.”
“You too Giles. God, I missed you guys! How is everyone? How’s the London thing, and the Council thing, and the school thing? Tell me everything. What’s been going on? God I missed you guys!” Xander exclaimed, bouncing happily.
“Hey Xander, not that we don’t wanna do the whole ‘what’s up?’ thing, but can we wait till we do the, uh, warm thing?” Buffy asked, rubbing her hands together.
“Oh, right. Winter, yeah.” He said, laughing more. “Come on, you can fill me in on everything in the car.”
****
Everyone stopped chattering as Xander pulled off of the highway and onto the gravel driveway. He heard a couple of people in the back actually gasp as his house came into view. Xander grinned, remembering doing the same thing the day he had bought it.
“Xander, it’s gorgeous!” He heard Willow call from the backseat. “It’s just, god, it’s gorgeous!”
“Yeah, Xander. It’s really neat.” Dawn said. Buffy was pressed up against the window and Giles just had a look of amazement on his face.
“Thanks, guys.” He said proudly. And he had every reason to be proud; he’d spent the last four years restoring the old Victorian to its current state. “There’s still a few things I need to finish, but I’ll have to wait till spring now.”
“Either way, it’s just so gorgeous!” Willow repeated. “It looks like one of those old gingerbread houses.”
Xander laughed at that, and then realized the truth of the statement. The winter skies had piled about a foot of snow on the grounds, so the acre lot the house sat on and all the trees around were blanketed. Looks like a greeting card, he thought to himself.
“Xander, how can you afford a house like this?” Buffy asked, her face still smashed up against the window.
“It actually wasn’t that expensive when I bought it, Buff. The firm was holding onto the title because they eventually wanted to set up an office in the building, and use it as sort of a show-room. But they’d had it a few years, and not too long after I got promoted up, the board voted to get rid of it. Luckily, Roger, my boss, remembered me saying how beautiful it was and asked if I wanted to make an offer. I did, and they sold it to me dirt cheap. Really, all I paid for was the land, but I think they just wanted to get it off their hands.”
Xander parked the Jeep next to the house instead of in the garage. Snow was forecasted for the night, and he didn’t want to have to dig it out of the garage again – a lesson he’d learned more times than he could count.
“Come on in, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
They all piled out of the Jeep, grabbing their bags and suitcases from the cargo hold in the back, and made their way inside. Once coats and hats and boots were discarded in the foyer, a new round of gasps and “gorgeous” made an appearance.
Xander showed them around the first floor, through the parlor flanking the foyer, the formal dining room that Xander had never used, the gigantic kitchen, the den off the back staircase, the sunroom and what he just called the “front room”.
They made their way up to the second floor, Xander showing everyone to their bedrooms. There were five in all, each one with its own private bathroom. The master bedroom and bathroom, which took up a third of the second floor, faced the front of the house, with large French windows that opened onto a balcony above the wrap-around porch. In the summer, Xander liked to sit out there with a bottle of beer and just watch the traffic on the highway and be mesmerized by the lightening bugs spark in the distance.
Finally, they made there way up another set of stairs to what Xander called his studio on the third floor. He hadn’t finished the room before winter set in, but it was getting close. All he had left to do was to lay down the new floor and trim, throw some paint on the walls. The two walls flanking the door held large picture windows from corner to corner. The opposite wall had the same, but a large stone fireplace in the middle broke up the wall of glass. There were also enormous skylights in the ceiling. This was the only room in the house that he’d allowed himself to indulge himself in his love of contemporary architecture, and it had become his favorite room.
“It’s beautiful up here at night. You can sit in the middle, on the floor, and look out at the stars. If there isn’t a fire going, it feels like you’re in a spaceship,” he said. At the moment, looking out, all you could see was an ocean of white and evergreen.
“Wow, Xander. It really is beautiful.” Dawn said, hugging him. “You did a great job.”
“I agree, Xander. It truly is magnificent.” Giles said, running his hand over the smooth stone of the fireplace.
“Yeah, Xan, it’s really great.” Buffy chimed in.
“Gorgeous!” Was still all Willow could say.
Xander stood there and took in the sight before him: his best friends in the whole world, really the only family he’d ever had, standing here in his house being amazed at how beautiful it was. It took a moment to sink in that there were only five people standing in the room.
“Has anyone heard from Spike?” He asked, somewhat casually.
“Sorry, Xan. Last week when I called him to see if he was coming, he wouldn’t answer the phone. Trust me, he’ll pay for that – I’m planning on spending summer vacation with him.” Dawn said, looking a little sad for Xander. Willow mirrored the look, while Buffy just looked tired from the trip and Giles looked uncomfortable.
“Hey, no big. We’ll still have fun, right? We’ll have a big old fashioned Christmas, it’ll be great.” Xander said, forcing himself to be cheery. “Er, as old fashioned as you can get with a witch, former slayer and watcher, college student and a partner in a construction firm.” He laughed, along with everyone else. Felt good to him to laugh like that with his family again.
“Well, I’m sure you’re all pretty tired from your trip.” A round of nods and ughs from everyone confirmed his suspicion. “So, why don’t you all go downstairs and make yourself at home, take a nap. And when you get up, we’ll do take-out or something, okay?”
“Sounds great, Xander.” Willow said as they filed out of the room. Buffy was the last one, and on her way by she gave Xander another big hug.
“I’m sorry, Xander. I was hoping he’d be here, too.” She said gently. Xander hugged her back, and just nodded. She left Xander standing in the room, alone, watching out the window as the daylight faded and snowflakes as big as boulders began to drift to the ground.
***
Xander was sitting at the table in the dark kitchen, hunched over his tea and staring out the bay window when Dawn came and sat next to him, leaning over and putting her head on his shoulder.
“What’s up Dawnie?” Xander asked, leaning his head on hers.
“Nothing.” She said softly. She folded her hand into his on the table, holding it tightly. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied. “Just surprised, I guess. He sent a letter saying he’d be here.” He sighed bitterly but resonantly. “Anyway, let’s talk about you! How’s school going? How’s Paris? Any boys I need to beat up? Oh, you want some tea?”
“Ugh, good, all, and yes please.” She piped, grinning deeply when Xander laughed.
“Same old Dawnie.” He said, getting up and making his way to the tea kettle on the stove. He took a mug out of the cupboard, poured and returned to the table with it. Dawn took the warm mug and breathed the musty scent deep.
“Mmm, smells like honey and cinnamon, just like Spike used to make.” She said, smiling up at him.
“Yeah, well, you pine after a dead English guy and see if it doesn’t teach you a few tricks.” Xander teased, flipping the switch to the overhead lamp, flooding the room with light. He returned to his place at the table.
“Yeah, guess that’ll do it.” Willow said from the doorway, making Dawn and Xander jump a little. “Anymore of that tea? No, don’t get up, I can get it. Mugs in the cabinet above?”
Willow made her tea and sat down across from the two of them.
“So, what are you talking about?”
“Dawnie’s just bringing me up to speed on the fast-paced life a Parisian college student. She was just about to tell me she hates it dreadfully and wants to move back here and share this big house.” Xander teased.
“Yup. That’s exactly what was happening.” Dawn said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, things are going pretty great. Graduating in the spring, and so happy bout that. And, there’s this boy I’ve been seeing off and on.” She glared at Xander as he gave out a loud catcall. “I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think he’s human, and I’m pretty sure things are headed toward the long haul.”
“That’s great, Dawn. Happy for you, kiddo.” Xander put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her tight. “So how’s things in Willow World? Witchy slayers giving you the run around?”
“Nah, they pretty much just show up and listen to me rant about misusing magic. Couple of them actually try to learn something, though, which is always nice.” Willow chuckled and sipped at her own tea.
“Ah, not more britjuice!” Buffy hollered from where she’d snuck to the stove. “Like I don’t get enough of this back home?”
Xander, Dawn, and Willow exchanged a look and all started laughing at once. Buffy just wrinkled up her nose, and went to raid the fridge. “Got any soda or anything? Oh, yay, grape soda!”
“Would I have the legendary Buffy the Vampire Slayer in my house and not stock the fridge with grape Fanta?” Xander huffed.
“And don’t you forget it, mister.” She said, popping the tab and sitting beside Willow. “Wow, this is weird, having the gang all back together. We miss you over there, Xander. Especially me, since Willow’s blended in with the Brits.” Buffy dodged the spoon that was launched at her head.
“Missed you too, guys. Weird for me, too. Hardly ever have many people in the house, unless it’s a party for work. Nice to finally show it off to you.”
“It really is wonderful, Xander. I’m happy you’re doing so great for yourself!” Willow chimed in.
“Well, soon as Mr. I Snore So Loud Everyone Needs Ear Plugs comes down, can we get something to eat? I’m starving, and craving some grease and countless calories. Another rare treat in the Queen’s playground.”
“Actually, I thought we’d order in. There’s a great Tai restaurant in town that delivers.”
“Did someone say Tai?” Giles asked, bounding into the room. Everyone turned to find the man in flannel pj pants and a Metallica t-shirt and a new round of laughter was had. Giles just shrugged and helped himself to the tea, while Xander picked up the cordless and punched speed dial number three.
****
The rest of the evening passed pretty much the same, as everyone caught each other up on their lives, laughing and joking about old times and good times and bad times. Xander was really happy to know that things were going well with the new and improved Council, of which Giles presided and Buffy executed. There’s a match made in heaven, Xander thought to himself, rolling his eyes.
****
Xander was sitting on the floor of the studio the following morning, listening to Mozart through the sound system and sipping on a cup of coffee when Giles knocked on the door.
“Hey, G-man, what’s happening?” Xander said, folding up the newspaper he was reading and placing it on the floor beside him. He gestured for Giles to sit, which the older man declined. Instead he went to the lifeless fireplace and leaned against the stone.
“If I sit on the floor, it’ll take me a bit to get back up.” He chuckled. “I must say, Xander, your car, this house, you; it’s all quite remarkable. You must be quite proud of how far you’ve come.”
“Oh, you mean going from errand boy to a partner? Yeah, I’d say proud’s a good word for it.” He smiled.
“I’m proud of you, also, Xander. You know you’re like a son to me, and it makes me so happy to see how much you’ve grown up and taken charge of your life. How you’ve realized your potential.” Xander could almost see a tear forming in the corner of the older man’s eye. And he realized how not uncomfortable the conversation was for him.
“Thanks, Giles. Means a lot that you think that.” He said confidently, his gaze never leaving Giles’.
The two men shared a comfortable silence for a moment until Xander picked up the paper and the coffee and stood up, stretching his legs.
“Okay, G-man. How bout we go wake up the girls, grab some breakfast and go find ourselves a nice tree?” Xander said, moving towards the door and gesturing for Giles to go first.
“Sounds like plan. Oh, and Xander?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t call me that.”
****
Author:
chocgood84 Paring: S/X (BtVS)
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Set 4 years post Not Fade Away. Only Spike survived Wolfram and Heart. Otherwise, pure and total schmoop fest. Hey look, I can write not-angst…who knew? Also, decidedly unbetad:)
Disclaimer: Aren’t mine. Never have been, never will be. Don’t sue, this is my fun.
Xander closed the door to his midnight blue Cherokee and pressed the “lock” button as he shoved the keys into his wool pea coat. He wrapped his cashmere scarf just a little tighter, teeth chattering, grimacing as a fresh burst of arctic wind slammed into his face. He made his way across the street and headed towards the entrance to the Post Office on Halston Street.
Once inside the warm and brightly lit foyer, he quickly shuffled through the stack of white envelopes, making sure they were each stamped and addressed properly. He stopped and thumbed over the name on one in particular, “‘Spike’ c/o Dawn Summers”. He gave a heavy sigh, but opened the chute and dropped them into the deposit slot, glad to finally have them out of his hands and on their way.
On his way back out, he glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled wide, enjoying the image he saw. A grown man with short hair, ink black but with a few strands of gray at the temples. The beginnings of crows feet peeking out from under the sunglasses he wore in bright light to mask the glare off the glass eye. The slightest smile lines from years too long ago. Tall and fit, dazzling in a tailored pinstripe suit and black and white wingtip shoes.
Xander smoothed out a wrinkle in his trousers, glanced in the mirror again, and made his way through the revolving door and out into the too dark too soon night, where heavy snowflakes had just begun to descend, though which were already starting to cake the cars and buildings along the street.
****
Having done away with the glass hours ago, Spike drank straight from the bottle of cheap whiskey he’d bought in town earlier. Several gulps later, and he slammed the empty bottle down on the rickety old table right next to the letter he’d received at sunset.
Before he’d even opened the letter, he’d gone to the all-night market just outside of town and grabbed the first bottle of whiskey he’d seen on the shelf. He slapped down a pink 10 Euro note, and got a blue five note back.
That was hours ago, and the letter still sat unopened on the table in front of him, the snick snick snick of the ceiling fan above Spike’s head stirring more noise than air. The dingy light bulb hanging from the fan swayed back and forth, causing shadows to shrink and grow and creep across and around the walls. The Mediterranean breeze blowing softly through the open French doors tried to pry the letter from the table, but each time, Spike would slap his hand down on top of it, as if it was a prisoner trying to escape.
“Xander bloody Harris. After all this fucking time?” Spike slurred, stumbling as he stood too quickly, knocking the old wooden chair to floor. The chair shattered like glass on the terracotta tiles.
“Bloody fucking hell!” He shouted at no one. The room was swimming in and out of focus, duplicating itself and churning like a child’s toy spinning top.
He felt himself falling backward, so he overcompensated by leaning too far forward, and he quickly found himself on his knees, his arms slung over the table and his head resting upon the letter.
In a moment of pure hatred and fury, he wretched himself up from his knees, crumpled the envelope into his fist, and stormed outside, through the small courtyard, and down the beach to where the evening tide was raging against the rocks.
The evening here on the rocks was surreal to Spike. The moon was too white, too bright, and the sea was turbulent as if the Tempest herself were wrecking havoc this night.
Spike screamed obscenities into the wind in every language he’d ever heard, fisted the crumpled paper into a tight ball no larger than a robin’s egg, and in one fluid motion, he launched the letter into the night air. It flew so far, Spike had no idea where it landed, but he hoped it would sink to the depths of the Mediterranean.
He stood there for a long time, watching the waves rise and fall, sucking the salt air deep into his lungs and wishing he’d remembered to get smokes at the market as well. At last, drunk, broken, and exhausted, Spike collapsed to the patch of sand he was standing on and sobbed enough to raise the sea level many meters.
****
Only thirteen days before Christmas, and Xander was sitting in front of the marble fireplace of his front parlor, listening to the pop and fizz of the dry wood, enjoying the smell and the heat, basking in the pleasant glow the firelight gave the room. He sat on the floor before the coffee table, just relaxing and sipping idly at the bottle of beer he’d grabbed from the kitchen on his way in.
He set the bottle down on the richly stained oak, and with one hand loosened and removed the silk tie and unbuttoning his collar; the other grabbing the stack of mail and sifting through it.
Xander’s breath stopped as he came across the last letter in the pile. Stamped in Greek letters, no return address, and “Xander L. Harris,” scripted on the front in formal, elegant script. Without opening it, Xander knew whose this was.
“Spike.” He whispered to no one, as, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, his entire face seemed to regain its youth as a smile blossomed and spread.
“Spike is coming.” He said, and for just one second, he thought the fire had repeated the name, popping and sizzling gently across the room.
He opened the letter and began reading, wiping tears from his eyes to be able to read the finely scripted letters.
****
Xander made one last tour of the house, checking to make sure everything was just right. He made sure the beds were made in all the bedrooms, that there were towels and soaps in each bathroom. He checked for dust, tested the vanilla scented air fresheners, and saw to it that all the windows were spot-free.
This was the same thing he’d done three times earlier that day. Each time he’d found something, but this last tour had turned up nothing other than the sparkling hardwood floors and the richly painted walls.
Xander nodded to himself, smiling slightly, and made his way to the foyer in the front of the house. He pulled on his soft leather jacket, zipping it half way, wrapped a scarf around his neck and pushed his hands into the leather gloves. He checked himself in the large mirror over the marble topped sideboard, making sure everything was just right.
Once satisfied he looked good, he grabbed his keys off the tray, slipped into his boots and left the house, making sure to lock up behind him.
The entire way to the train station, Xander kept breaking into fits of laughter and sheer joy. He was sure the other drivers on the road thought he was skitzo because one second he’d be concentrating on the slick road and the next he’d be laughing hysterically, remembering good times.
****
The soft glow of winter sunlight was trying to poke through the deep gray of cloud cover as the train direct from Great Falls came roaring into the station.
Xander left the Jeep double parked in the fire lane and hopped out, practically bouncing as the train came to a stop, electronic brakes squealing loudly. The doors opened and it seemed as if hundreds of people were getting off. Xander jumped up to see through the rushing crowd, but didn’t recognize anyone.
Grandparents, parents, children, friends and pets were greeting each other all around him, embracing and calling out to one another. A man who was waiting next to Xander yelled loudly and a tall brunette with dark ruby lips and thigh-high boots came running into his arms, laughing as he spun her around.
The platform cleared quickly enough, leaving Xander and only a handful of other people. The train’s doors closed and off it went, the electric buzz grating on Xander’s nerves.
“They’re not here.” He said softly to himself, feeling as if the platform itself fell away beneath him. He turned to walk back to his Jeep and yelped in surprise as he saw them standing there, leaning casually on the vehicle, as if they’d been waiting for him.
Xander barely had time to assess how many where there when a red-headed assault missile was launched at him, and he felt the weight of her hugging him tight. She was quickly followed by one, two, three others.
“Xander! We missed you!” Willow said, tears in her eyes as she clung to him, hard enough to bruise. Xander hugged her back almost as tightly.
“Missed you too, Wills.” He said, kissing her on the top of her head. She finally eased up, and Xander turned to see Dawn, a grown up Dawn, standing there with hands on her hips, one foot turned out and tapping the sidewalk, as if waiting impatiently.
“Hey Dawnie, how’s my favorite slayer sis?” He asked, and instantly her face brightened, and she jumped into his arm, squeezing him almost, but not quite, as hard as willow. When she pulled away, she was crying, wiping the freezing tears out of her eyes.
Next was Buffy, who came up and put her arms around Xander, hugging him close.
“Uh, hey, Buff?” Xander choked out.
“Yeah, Xander?” She said, still squeezing.
“Uh, that whole slayer strength thing?” He gasped, turning blue.
“That’s what you get for making us wait five whole years to see you again, you jerk.” She said laughingly, but letting go anyway. Xander leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek, and she smiled.
Xander turned back around to see Giles standing there, looking ever so much the English gentleman in a trench coat and tweed hat. He clutched a small suitcase in one hand and extended his other.
“Xander. I trust you’re well,” he said, so very proper. Xander took his hand, and pulled him in for a hug too. At first Giles stiffened, but he soon returned the embrace, laughing along with everyone else. “It’s good to see you, Xander.”
“You too Giles. God, I missed you guys! How is everyone? How’s the London thing, and the Council thing, and the school thing? Tell me everything. What’s been going on? God I missed you guys!” Xander exclaimed, bouncing happily.
“Hey Xander, not that we don’t wanna do the whole ‘what’s up?’ thing, but can we wait till we do the, uh, warm thing?” Buffy asked, rubbing her hands together.
“Oh, right. Winter, yeah.” He said, laughing more. “Come on, you can fill me in on everything in the car.”
****
Everyone stopped chattering as Xander pulled off of the highway and onto the gravel driveway. He heard a couple of people in the back actually gasp as his house came into view. Xander grinned, remembering doing the same thing the day he had bought it.
“Xander, it’s gorgeous!” He heard Willow call from the backseat. “It’s just, god, it’s gorgeous!”
“Yeah, Xander. It’s really neat.” Dawn said. Buffy was pressed up against the window and Giles just had a look of amazement on his face.
“Thanks, guys.” He said proudly. And he had every reason to be proud; he’d spent the last four years restoring the old Victorian to its current state. “There’s still a few things I need to finish, but I’ll have to wait till spring now.”
“Either way, it’s just so gorgeous!” Willow repeated. “It looks like one of those old gingerbread houses.”
Xander laughed at that, and then realized the truth of the statement. The winter skies had piled about a foot of snow on the grounds, so the acre lot the house sat on and all the trees around were blanketed. Looks like a greeting card, he thought to himself.
“Xander, how can you afford a house like this?” Buffy asked, her face still smashed up against the window.
“It actually wasn’t that expensive when I bought it, Buff. The firm was holding onto the title because they eventually wanted to set up an office in the building, and use it as sort of a show-room. But they’d had it a few years, and not too long after I got promoted up, the board voted to get rid of it. Luckily, Roger, my boss, remembered me saying how beautiful it was and asked if I wanted to make an offer. I did, and they sold it to me dirt cheap. Really, all I paid for was the land, but I think they just wanted to get it off their hands.”
Xander parked the Jeep next to the house instead of in the garage. Snow was forecasted for the night, and he didn’t want to have to dig it out of the garage again – a lesson he’d learned more times than he could count.
“Come on in, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
They all piled out of the Jeep, grabbing their bags and suitcases from the cargo hold in the back, and made their way inside. Once coats and hats and boots were discarded in the foyer, a new round of gasps and “gorgeous” made an appearance.
Xander showed them around the first floor, through the parlor flanking the foyer, the formal dining room that Xander had never used, the gigantic kitchen, the den off the back staircase, the sunroom and what he just called the “front room”.
They made their way up to the second floor, Xander showing everyone to their bedrooms. There were five in all, each one with its own private bathroom. The master bedroom and bathroom, which took up a third of the second floor, faced the front of the house, with large French windows that opened onto a balcony above the wrap-around porch. In the summer, Xander liked to sit out there with a bottle of beer and just watch the traffic on the highway and be mesmerized by the lightening bugs spark in the distance.
Finally, they made there way up another set of stairs to what Xander called his studio on the third floor. He hadn’t finished the room before winter set in, but it was getting close. All he had left to do was to lay down the new floor and trim, throw some paint on the walls. The two walls flanking the door held large picture windows from corner to corner. The opposite wall had the same, but a large stone fireplace in the middle broke up the wall of glass. There were also enormous skylights in the ceiling. This was the only room in the house that he’d allowed himself to indulge himself in his love of contemporary architecture, and it had become his favorite room.
“It’s beautiful up here at night. You can sit in the middle, on the floor, and look out at the stars. If there isn’t a fire going, it feels like you’re in a spaceship,” he said. At the moment, looking out, all you could see was an ocean of white and evergreen.
“Wow, Xander. It really is beautiful.” Dawn said, hugging him. “You did a great job.”
“I agree, Xander. It truly is magnificent.” Giles said, running his hand over the smooth stone of the fireplace.
“Yeah, Xan, it’s really great.” Buffy chimed in.
“Gorgeous!” Was still all Willow could say.
Xander stood there and took in the sight before him: his best friends in the whole world, really the only family he’d ever had, standing here in his house being amazed at how beautiful it was. It took a moment to sink in that there were only five people standing in the room.
“Has anyone heard from Spike?” He asked, somewhat casually.
“Sorry, Xan. Last week when I called him to see if he was coming, he wouldn’t answer the phone. Trust me, he’ll pay for that – I’m planning on spending summer vacation with him.” Dawn said, looking a little sad for Xander. Willow mirrored the look, while Buffy just looked tired from the trip and Giles looked uncomfortable.
“Hey, no big. We’ll still have fun, right? We’ll have a big old fashioned Christmas, it’ll be great.” Xander said, forcing himself to be cheery. “Er, as old fashioned as you can get with a witch, former slayer and watcher, college student and a partner in a construction firm.” He laughed, along with everyone else. Felt good to him to laugh like that with his family again.
“Well, I’m sure you’re all pretty tired from your trip.” A round of nods and ughs from everyone confirmed his suspicion. “So, why don’t you all go downstairs and make yourself at home, take a nap. And when you get up, we’ll do take-out or something, okay?”
“Sounds great, Xander.” Willow said as they filed out of the room. Buffy was the last one, and on her way by she gave Xander another big hug.
“I’m sorry, Xander. I was hoping he’d be here, too.” She said gently. Xander hugged her back, and just nodded. She left Xander standing in the room, alone, watching out the window as the daylight faded and snowflakes as big as boulders began to drift to the ground.
***
Xander was sitting at the table in the dark kitchen, hunched over his tea and staring out the bay window when Dawn came and sat next to him, leaning over and putting her head on his shoulder.
“What’s up Dawnie?” Xander asked, leaning his head on hers.
“Nothing.” She said softly. She folded her hand into his on the table, holding it tightly. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied. “Just surprised, I guess. He sent a letter saying he’d be here.” He sighed bitterly but resonantly. “Anyway, let’s talk about you! How’s school going? How’s Paris? Any boys I need to beat up? Oh, you want some tea?”
“Ugh, good, all, and yes please.” She piped, grinning deeply when Xander laughed.
“Same old Dawnie.” He said, getting up and making his way to the tea kettle on the stove. He took a mug out of the cupboard, poured and returned to the table with it. Dawn took the warm mug and breathed the musty scent deep.
“Mmm, smells like honey and cinnamon, just like Spike used to make.” She said, smiling up at him.
“Yeah, well, you pine after a dead English guy and see if it doesn’t teach you a few tricks.” Xander teased, flipping the switch to the overhead lamp, flooding the room with light. He returned to his place at the table.
“Yeah, guess that’ll do it.” Willow said from the doorway, making Dawn and Xander jump a little. “Anymore of that tea? No, don’t get up, I can get it. Mugs in the cabinet above?”
Willow made her tea and sat down across from the two of them.
“So, what are you talking about?”
“Dawnie’s just bringing me up to speed on the fast-paced life a Parisian college student. She was just about to tell me she hates it dreadfully and wants to move back here and share this big house.” Xander teased.
“Yup. That’s exactly what was happening.” Dawn said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, things are going pretty great. Graduating in the spring, and so happy bout that. And, there’s this boy I’ve been seeing off and on.” She glared at Xander as he gave out a loud catcall. “I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think he’s human, and I’m pretty sure things are headed toward the long haul.”
“That’s great, Dawn. Happy for you, kiddo.” Xander put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her tight. “So how’s things in Willow World? Witchy slayers giving you the run around?”
“Nah, they pretty much just show up and listen to me rant about misusing magic. Couple of them actually try to learn something, though, which is always nice.” Willow chuckled and sipped at her own tea.
“Ah, not more britjuice!” Buffy hollered from where she’d snuck to the stove. “Like I don’t get enough of this back home?”
Xander, Dawn, and Willow exchanged a look and all started laughing at once. Buffy just wrinkled up her nose, and went to raid the fridge. “Got any soda or anything? Oh, yay, grape soda!”
“Would I have the legendary Buffy the Vampire Slayer in my house and not stock the fridge with grape Fanta?” Xander huffed.
“And don’t you forget it, mister.” She said, popping the tab and sitting beside Willow. “Wow, this is weird, having the gang all back together. We miss you over there, Xander. Especially me, since Willow’s blended in with the Brits.” Buffy dodged the spoon that was launched at her head.
“Missed you too, guys. Weird for me, too. Hardly ever have many people in the house, unless it’s a party for work. Nice to finally show it off to you.”
“It really is wonderful, Xander. I’m happy you’re doing so great for yourself!” Willow chimed in.
“Well, soon as Mr. I Snore So Loud Everyone Needs Ear Plugs comes down, can we get something to eat? I’m starving, and craving some grease and countless calories. Another rare treat in the Queen’s playground.”
“Actually, I thought we’d order in. There’s a great Tai restaurant in town that delivers.”
“Did someone say Tai?” Giles asked, bounding into the room. Everyone turned to find the man in flannel pj pants and a Metallica t-shirt and a new round of laughter was had. Giles just shrugged and helped himself to the tea, while Xander picked up the cordless and punched speed dial number three.
****
The rest of the evening passed pretty much the same, as everyone caught each other up on their lives, laughing and joking about old times and good times and bad times. Xander was really happy to know that things were going well with the new and improved Council, of which Giles presided and Buffy executed. There’s a match made in heaven, Xander thought to himself, rolling his eyes.
****
Xander was sitting on the floor of the studio the following morning, listening to Mozart through the sound system and sipping on a cup of coffee when Giles knocked on the door.
“Hey, G-man, what’s happening?” Xander said, folding up the newspaper he was reading and placing it on the floor beside him. He gestured for Giles to sit, which the older man declined. Instead he went to the lifeless fireplace and leaned against the stone.
“If I sit on the floor, it’ll take me a bit to get back up.” He chuckled. “I must say, Xander, your car, this house, you; it’s all quite remarkable. You must be quite proud of how far you’ve come.”
“Oh, you mean going from errand boy to a partner? Yeah, I’d say proud’s a good word for it.” He smiled.
“I’m proud of you, also, Xander. You know you’re like a son to me, and it makes me so happy to see how much you’ve grown up and taken charge of your life. How you’ve realized your potential.” Xander could almost see a tear forming in the corner of the older man’s eye. And he realized how not uncomfortable the conversation was for him.
“Thanks, Giles. Means a lot that you think that.” He said confidently, his gaze never leaving Giles’.
The two men shared a comfortable silence for a moment until Xander picked up the paper and the coffee and stood up, stretching his legs.
“Okay, G-man. How bout we go wake up the girls, grab some breakfast and go find ourselves a nice tree?” Xander said, moving towards the door and gesturing for Giles to go first.
“Sounds like plan. Oh, and Xander?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t call me that.”
****
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From:
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Gangsta'!Xander in a pin-stripe suit!!
*bounce*
Scoobies, check.
Xmas, check.
Niiiiice house, check.
*looks hopefully for teh schmoopy sex*
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ppsst...pr0n's near the end
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I like it. It's a really good start. Now the next question, will it be long and updated regularly?
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Glad you like it!
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