It was christmas everywhere. The hustles and bustles of the holiday season hung in the air. Illyria did not know much about the event. She's never had eggnog, nor has she ever trimmed a christmas tree or experienced the exchanging of gift giving. Wesley would have taught her the many traditions, but sadly, he no longer walked the grounds of this earth she now called home. She stands cocking her head amazed at the sudden change of moods during this time of year. Everyone around seemed happier, not that humans were ever happy, she thought to herself. People greeted each other with holiday cheers. Even Angel and Spike quit their bickering with each other. No wise cracks coming out of Spike. Angel smiled for no reason at all. This was something Illyria was not accustomed to.

She knows christmas is a time to be with friends and family and it saddened Illyria for she had none. She hasn't forgotten Wesley. He was her friend, her family. At least that is what she had thought of her relationship to him. She overheard Angel once remarking on how she was only an "assignment, a job, a duty," to Wesley. And it broke her heart.

It was christmas day. Everyone was with their love ones. Who knows where Angel and Spike had disappeared to. Illyria found herself at Wesley's grave. Loosening the vase from its resting place, she walks slowly to the faucet a few yards away. Her mind wanders to the first time she had appeared into his life. She'll never forget the look of hatred in his eyes when she so suddenly took over the shell of the woman he loved. Water begins to overflow out of the vase and spill on her hands, causing it to drop onto the ground. Snapping out of her trance, she curses out loud and begins to cry.

She kneels down, placing yellow tulips delicately into the brass vase. Illyria could faintly hear the flowers "Oooooooooooooing and Ahhhhhhhhhing as their stems hit the water. Afterall, she once could talk to plants. Sitting on the grassy area, she runs her fingers on the bronzed stoned marker and traces the outline of his name.

"Wesley," she whispers his name painfully. "I do wish you were here with me. My christmas gift to you cannot be bought at those department stores, nor is it homemade baked goods.

"I give you my heart, Wesley. Merry Christmas," she says softly.

Illyria turns her head slowly to find Angel and Spike standing a few yards away from her. They too, were paying their respects to Wesley.

"I talk to him all the time, Blue," Spike piped out. Turning to him, her reddened eyes were filled with tears. She squints due to the sun shining directly under her.

"The sun there," Angel points, "that's Wes watching over you."

"Hey, old chum!" Spike called out, gently polishing his tombstone with the end of his shirt. "A jolly ole christmas to you!"

"Wes, Merry Christmas," Angel's greeting was simple and to the point.

Digging into a paper bag, Spike pulls out a jigger and a bottle of scotch, pours a shot of booze into it and lays it atop his marbled stone. He then gulps down from the bottle. "Cheers!"

"Hey, leave some for me," Angel growled, grabbing the bottle away from Spike.

"Here's to you, Wes." Drinking slowly, he taps Illyria lightly on the shoulder and passes it on to her. "Have a drink."

"What?" She questions. "I do not understand." She turns to Spike.

"Take a drink, luv. For the holidays! A drink to Wes."

"Oh. I have seen what this liquid does to people. I have seen Wesley..."

"Just sip a little, Illyria. To wish Wes happy holidays." Angel spoke softly.

"As you wish," she answers and obediently takes a drink from the bottle.

Spike flops himself on the ground. "Don't worry about Illyria, chap. We're taking good care of her. She's becoming somewhat of a human. You know, grouchy and all. A lot more to learn, but, hey, I'm a great teacher," he chirped into the tulips.

Angel rolled his eyes at Spike. "Yea, Wes. We'll take good care of her," he mumbled, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

Illyria stood at a standstill, surprised what came out of their mouths. After Wesley's death, they completely ignored her. Gradually they had slowly begun to adjust to her being around, although, nothing was said. She did, though, had been feeling a bit more comfortable being around them.

"Illyria, would you like to join us for christmas?" Angel asked, holding out his hand to help her up.

Delighted, she smiled slightly and whispered, "thank you. I would like that very much." She dusted herself as she and Angel waited for Spike who was busy stuffing the liquor bottle inside of his pants pocket.

Ilyria turned back before leaving. "Happy Holidays, Wesley." She thought just how precious the gift of life was and how she wished Wesley was there to grow old and gray with the three of them.

"Okay, where to? Where shall we spend christmas, mate?"

"My house. I got a tree and the trimmings. Illyria could decorate."

"I-I've never decorated a tree before," she answered honestly.

"Neither have we, but, I'm sure we'll manage. And we can order chinese."

"You got presents for me and Blue?" Spike asked excitedly.

"What the hell are you, like five years old? The fact you'll be spending christmas at my house is present enough."

"Bloody bloke's a cheapskate, pet," Spike said under his breath to Illyria.

"Merry Christmas, Illyria."

"A Happy Holiday to you, Blue. So, you know Santa Claus?"

"Is he a friend of yours?" She asked innocently. "Will he be at Angel's?"

It didn't surprise Angel that Illyria knew nothing about Santa Claus. Of course, it would have been Wes' department to have taught her the legend of St. Nick.

"Hope you still have that red suit in your closet from last year's party, mate..."

Angel cut into Spike's sentence. "Yup, and from the size of you, it will be a perfect fit."

"Me?" Spike queried.

"Yea, you." Angel's voice was stern.

Illyria just smiled and walked between the both of them.

"Maybe earth won't be such a terrible place to live in," she tells herself as she hooked her arms on theirs.

"Merry Christmas, my friends!"