Christmas Eve in Sunnydale

“Merry Christmas.”

Spike groaned. If he heard that one more time… Hell, did they really even mean it? Bunch of hypocritical wankers, the lot of ‘em. He’d needed blood, though, so there he’d been.

He took the long way home to avoid more people. It was only coincidence, really, that her home was on that route. Through the open curtains, he saw them: Buffy, Nibblet, and Joyce, adding the last touches to their tree. It was wonderful to see her happy, smiling, and if Christmas could do that…

“Merry Christmas, Slayer,” he whispered.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.