It needed to be done.
Buffy had decided it, set, determined. It had been weeks of trekking around, watching Willow in fuzzy, traditional sweaters even though she didn't celebrate the actual holiday. She didn't care; the fact was that the goodly Christmas cheer was enough to make her want to enjoy the 'wigglies', as she was sometimes fond of calling them.
And there was Faith, lonely, lonely Faith and her nowhere to go for Christmas. Somewhere deep down in Buffy's stylishly clad affordable heart, this bit of a pang was something she could not at all ignore. And she didn't think it was necessary to do so, because she had such a perfect little idea.
The thing was just right. It was glass, or ceramic, or whatever Joyce had said it was, and there were cute, twisty little bulbs of every color shimmering from every pretty, forest green branch. When you plugged it in the hopeful little shades were illuminated brightly, though, admittedly, some of them weren't functional any longer. The red ones were stubborn and, sometimes, didn't like to agree. The thing was old, chipped, but it had always been a favorite of Buffy's when she was a little B.
And the sweet little tree would go flawlessly in Faith's empty, empty hotel room.