Christmas with the Scoobies

Chapter 1: Tomorrow shall be my dancing day

Buffy reflected on the disaster that had been Thanksgiving as she decorated the house for Christmas. Unusually, the disaster hadn't been caused by any type of demon - unless Fate was a demon. She sometimes wondered. She'd overcooked the turkey, the cranberry sauce was too sour, and the vegetables were more 'al dente' than one might usually expect. To add to which, Dawn had been in quarantine with chicken pox, and Xander had 'flu.

She laughed as she remembered it. It hadn't been at all funny at the time - she'd sat in the kitchen and cried until Willow and Spike had more or less poured half a bottle of wine down her throat. Then, chuckling at the mess her cooking attempts had caused, they'd cleared up, and made sausages and chips.

And now it was Christmas Eve. She smiled. Everyone would be arriving either today or tomorrow - Angel was driving over from LA for a rare visit, Spike had unwillingly agreed after hearing Angel was going, Willow would be there, refusing to call it Christmas, Xander and Anya, Giles, Dawn. A houseful. And thankfully, she wasn't doing the cooking.

For some reason, Spike had decided roast goose would be the thing to do. Apparently it had been a tradition in England to have goose at Christmas - she'd never heard of it, but she was prepared to go along with it as he was cooking it. Frankly, she'd have eaten offal stew if someone else spared her the trouble. And the others didn't seem to mind. All she had to do was decorate the house.

She'd put on a CD of her mother's, more for atmosphere than because she liked the music. Old English Christmas carols, most of which she'd never come across. But they were jolly, and after a while she found she almost liked them. Spike, cooking in the kitchen, could be heard humming away to them. To him, they were a part of his childhood.

"Tomorrow shall be my dancing day,

I would my true love did so chance

To see the legend of my play,

To call my true love to my dance.

Sing oh my love, oh my love, my love, my love,

This have I done for my true love…"

She smiled, glad of their friendship. She knew he was probably still thinking of her when he sang the carol, but was too happy to let it worry her. It would be a traditional Christmas, with all the Scooby family.

It did bother her slightly. Willow didn't have Christmas, she had Hanukkah. It didn't seem to bother her much, but Buffy worried a little. And the vampires, too. Well, none of them was really religious. She wondered idly about finding a new name that was agreeable to all of them. 'Scoobyfest?' She wrinkled her nose. 'Maybe not.' Maybe they should celebrate the winter solstice? That, too, didn't seem right - the appeasing of the old pagan gods, rather than rejoicing about something. Maybe they could all think of something tomorrow.

She smiled as Dawn handed up another paper chain. The smell of cinnamon filled the air suddenly, and Spike came out of the kitchen with freshly cooked biscuits and mugs of coffee. "Anyone hungry?"

"Me, me!" cried Dawn, blowing on a biscuit to cool it. "Mm, these smell good!"

As darkness fell, there was a knock on the door. "Giles has smelt the biscuits," laughed Buffy as she helped him in with the little fir tree and a large bunch of mistletoe.

"What's that for?" asked Dawn.

Spike grinned. "Kissing bunch, unless I'm much mistaken."

"What's a kissing bunch?"

"It's an English tradition," said Giles. "You hang a bunch of mistletoe in the hallway, and people kiss under it. It's said to be lucky. There's a rhyme to go with it: 'It has been writ that any man / May blameless kiss what maid he can; Nor anyone shall say him no / Beneath the holy mistletoe.'"

"Not sure I like the sound of that," said Dawn, wrinkling her nose.

"Better make sure I don't catch you under the mistletoe, then," teased Spike.

"Ew! Ew! Gross!"

"Well, thank you very much," he retorted, pretending to be upset.

"No, no, I mean, it'd be like kissing your brother."

He chuckled. "It's all right, Bit, it's usually no more than a peck on the cheek."

"Oh!" Dawn was relieved. "That's okay then." She whispered to him, "just think, otherwise, kissing Giles? I mean, gross!"

Giles was unaware of the comment and looked bemused at the giggles emanating from the pair. Buffy patted his arm gently, trying not to smirk, having overheard the comment. "Come and have some coffee and cookies. Spike's just baked them."

"Oh - uh, right. That sounds good. Uh - by the way, where's Willow?"

Buffy laughed. "last minute shopping at the mall."

It wasn't long before Willow herself returned home, laden with mysteriously bulging bags, which she ran and hid in her room. All that could be heard for the next half hour was the crackling of paper and the snipping of scissors.

Eventually she reappeared, this time laden with neatly-wrapped presents to put under the tree. "Mine are the first!" she laughed gaily. "And you haven't even got the tree up!"

Giles waved his mug at her. "Give me a chance!"

Spike chuckled. "I'll give you a hand, Watcher. Then I've got some presents to bring down, too."

Chapter 2: Angelus ad virginem

By ten o' clock the tree and mistletoe were up, the cooking preparations finished, supper eaten, washing-up done, and everything put away. Giles made his excuses after arranging his presents under the tree with Willow and Spike's. Dawn trotted upstairs and brought hers down. "'m going to bed," she yawned. "G'night."

"Me too," said Willow. "See you tomorrow." They went upstairs.

"Better go and get my presents," said Buffy. "It's about the only useful thing I can do while we wait for Angel to get here." Angel was driving through the dark.

"Need a hand?" asked Spike. She shook her head, and ran upstairs.

She'd just about finished arranging her presents under the tree when Angel arrived. In the background, the CD was playing 'Angelus ad virginem'. "Appropriate," said Spike softly. But there was a knock on the door before she could ask why.

"Hey! How was the drive?"

He smiled. "Good."

"We've made up a bed in the basement - no sunlight."

"Great. I've got some presents in the car, I'll just go and get them."

"I'll give you a hand."

Spike watched them go, and turned back to the kitchen, putting a mug of blood into the microwave for his sire. It was ready just as the door closed.

As he went into the hallway, it was to see the pair of them kissing under the mistletoe. He stood frozen for an instant, then choked back a sob. He turned back to the kitchen again, drinking the blood to calm himself down.

Buffy caught the slight movement, though Angel was oblivious to it. For some reason, she felt upset that he'd seen them, knowing it would have hurt him. She wished he hadn't seen it.

She smiled at Angel as though nothing had happened. "D'you need anything? A drink, something to eat?"

He shook his head. "I'm kinda tired after the drive. If you don't mind, I think I'll hit the hay."

"Sure." He nodded, and went down to the basement. She leant back against the front door, wondering what to do about Spike.

"Peaches gone to bed, then?"

She opened her eyes. "Yeah. Said he was tired - from the drive. So he's gone to bed." She sighed. "Now he's settled, I'll do the same, I think. What about you?"

He shrugged. "Thought I might watch telly for a bit."

"Okay." She pushed herself off the front door until she stood under the mistletoe. She put her head to one side. "so, got a goodnight kiss for your best friend?"

To her, he looked terribly vulnerable as he stepped towards her, slightly tense. The Spike of old would have prowled towards her like a predator. He was almost diffident as he put his arms around her. She looked up at him, winding her arms round his neck, as he bent his head to kiss her.

The kiss was gentle, very different to the last time he'd kissed her. She found her hand rifling through his hair without realising it as she responded, her knees almost buckling under her. A fire seemed to burn within her as she pushed closer to him, a soft whimper escaping her. 'Oh, God, I've missed you!' The words formed unbidden in her mind, but remained unspoken. She broke away from him, seeing her own shock and confusion mirrored in his face.

"I - I think I'd better go to bed," she said dazedly. He nodded as she turned away, then called her back. "What?"

He handed her a newly plucked mistletoe berry with a whimsical smile. "Supposed to be lucky."

"Oh!" She smiled tentatively. "Thanks." She turned away again as he went into the living room. She couldn't be sure, but she though she heard a quiet sob. She bit her lip, and went to bed.

She couldn't sleep, though. Tossing and turning, she couldn't get comfortable. She could faintly hear the television and wondered if she'd made matters worse by kissing Spike.

Finally, she gave in, and tapped on Willow's door. She was still awake, nose firmly buried in a book. Seeing Buffy's face, however, she put it down. "What's up?"

"Suppose you're in love with a guy. You've loved him a long time, so long it feels like forever. You've got the chance to be with him again, because - well, things have changed."

"You mean, Angel's soul being fixed, so he can't lose it and go all 'grr' again if you sleep with him?" Buffy nodded, sitting on the bed. "Go on."

"And part of you wants to get back with him."

"But?"

Buffy sighed. "But you have a friend, a male friend, who's going to be really hurt if you do. And - and the male friend saw you kissing the other guy, but didn't say, but you knew he was upset, then - then you ended up kissing the male friend, and - and it felt - different to how you'd thought?"

"In other words, you kissed Angel under the mistletoe, and Spike saw, then you ended up kissing Spike under the mistletoe?"

"Uh - yeah. Pretty much."

"Different how?"

"Well -" she frowned. "Kissing Angel was - well, like it's always been. Comfortable, familiar, safe - like a pair of comfy old slippers. Kissing Spike was more like, uh -"

"A pair of new shoes?"

"Uh - not exactly. Buying new shoes, maybe. The excitement, y'know? But it still felt - comfortable, just the same. But exciting, too, in a way, and gentle. All the comfortable familiarity of Angel, but with something extra as well."

"And?" prompted Willow.

"I think I hurt Spike even more by kissing him. I thought I heard him crying when I came upstairs. It seems that - whatever I do from here, one of them's going to get hurt. And I don't want to hurt either of them."

"I think you're just going to have to come to terms with it," said Willow gently.

"I know," sighed Buffy. "Thing is - which one?"

Willow looked surprised. "You'd go out with Spike, then? If Angel was out of the picture?"

"I - I don't know. Maybe. But - well, each of them complicates matters with the other. I feel - torn, between the two of them."

Willow nodded, understanding. "I can't make up your mind for you," she said softly. "You'll have to do that yourself. Think of the good and bad things about both of them, see how you feel about them both tomorrow after you've slept on it. Which of them makes you happier? That's the main thing you need to work out."

"I guess," she said wretchedly.

"Go get some sleep," advised Willow. "Here, borrow this." She handed her a small pillow.

"What is it?"

"Sleep pillow. Filled with herbs that make you sleepy."

"Oh! Thanks." She was about to go when something occurred to her. "What does 'angelus ad virginem' mean?"

Willow raised her eyebrows. "It's Latin. It means the, or an, angel, to the, or a, virgin. Angel to virgin, basically. Why?"

"Oh, just - something Spike said. Night!"

"Night, Buffy."

She lay awake for a while, wondering about Spike's comment. 'Angel to virgin'. Or 'Angelus to virgin'. Well, she'd been a virgin when she'd first met Angel. Maybe it was just as simple as that?

But she'd been a virgin when she'd met Spike, too. Not that he was exactly an angel, though he did quite a good impression these days - he was so sweet and considerate, and he always seemed to be hauling her and Dawn and Willow out of trouble of various sorts, like a guardian angel. More so than Angel himself had ever been. But it was probably the first, more obvious meaning he'd intended all the same, she concluded.

She drifted off to sleep eventually, dreaming alternately of Angel and Spike, or at times the two of them together.

Chapter 3: Welcome, Yule!

She was being shaken awake. "Spike…"

There was a girlish laugh. "Sorry to disappoint you, honey, but it's Willow. I brought you a cup of coffee."

She blinked open her eyes and smiled wryly. "Thanks! Sorry, I was dreaming."

"So I gathered," said Willow, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Of Hallowe'en! When Spike nearly killed me. Funny thing is, it wasn't nearly as scary in the dream as it was in reality."

"Well, it's already happened. Anyway, the others are already up, and Xander, Anya and Giles will be here in an hour or so."

Buffy groaned. "I'd better get up then. Anyone in the shower?"

"Dawn, but she's been in there a while, so she shouldn't be too long. Have your coffee first," advised Willow.

She yawned. "Okay."

She ambled downstairs after her shower. Spike had shut himself in the kitchen, tending the goose. Dawn was feeling her presents to try to work out what they were. Willow was munching toast, and Angel was stretched out on the sofa, blinking sleepily at the TV. "Morning, guys!"

There was a variety of greetings. She took a deep breath and went into the kitchen to get some breakfast. "Morning, Spike."

He gave her a small smile. "Morning."

"How's it going?"

"Okay." He grinned slyly. "Better than the turkey."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Quit reminding me!"

He chuckled. "Chances of that?" She laughed and threw a tea-towel at him, which he caught deftly. "Lunch should be ready at half past one."

"Good. The others should be here soon, so we should have time before lunch to unwrap presents."

He nodded. "That's good." She felt slightly disappointed as she took her toast through to the living room, though she couldn't think why. She sat on the floor, watching the cartoon as she ate her breakfast. Giles arrived before she'd quite finished, and she explained her idea about finding a name for Christmas that they all liked.

"How about 'Yule'?" he asked, as Spike let in Xander and Anya. "It was originally, I believe, a pagan festival of thanksgiving. The Christians amalgamated it into their Christmas celebrations, but it was more to do with the winter solstice." The others nodded their agreement. Willow, in particular, seemed pleased.

"Time for presents," clamoured Dawn, who still, child-like, loved unwrapping presents.

Her sister laughed. "Okay, then. Dish them out."

For the next half-hour they unwrapped their presents amidst laughter. There was a collective gasp as Dawn lifted her present from Spike out of its box. "Wow! Thanks, Spike," she whispered, eyes wide as she held up the leather coat, a smaller size of his own trademark duster. Going to him, she hugged him hard and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you so much!"

He hugged her back, looking a little embarrassed. "Yeah, well, at least you won't have to borrow mine now. Try it on - see if it fits."

Eyes bright, she slipped it on. "Looks good on you," commented Xander.

She grinned, sitting back down, not taking it off. She stroked the leather proudly as the others opened their presents.

Buffy laughed at her present from Willow. "What are they for?" she asked, holding up foot-shaped mats.

"You stick them to the floor of the shower with the suction pads," she explained. "And you stand on them. They massage your feet. I thought they'd be nice when you come in with sore feet after patrolling."

"And the blindfold?" teased Spike.

Willow rolled her eyes. "It's an eye mask. You chill it in the fridge, then lie down with it over your eyes if they're sore."

"That's so sweet! Thanks, Will!"

Giles had his nose buried in the book Buffy had given him within seconds of opening it. "Fascinating," he murmured as he leafed through it. "You know, I've been intending to buy this for ages…"

"Giles is off for the day," laughed Dawn.

Xander and Anya had clubbed together to buy Willow a scanner for her computer, which she'd wanted but couldn't afford. "Thanks, guys, you're the best!" she grinned goofily, hugging them tightly.

Buffy smiled, cuddling into the powder-blue fleece from Spike, 'for patrolling on cold nights.' She looked at Angel's present with a little misgiving, but was relieved to find that he hadn't gone over the top. It was a sliver cross on a chain, decorated with a Celtic knot-work pattern.

Spike smiled as he unwrapped his present from Buffy - a beautifully bound anthology of poetry, which she'd inscribed neatly with the words, 'To William: 'For every house is incomplete without him and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.' (Christopher Smart). With love, Buffy.' "Thank you," he said softly, kissing her gently on the cheek. Angel didn't look pleased. It seemed to him that Buffy was going out of her way to make a fuss of Spike, and he couldn't understand why.

He opened his own present a little moodily to discover a CD that Buffy had made on Willow's computer, with some of his favourite songs. It was obvious she'd thought a lot about it, and he smiled good-humouredly. "Thanks." He wrapped an arm around her possessively.

"Time for lunch," announced Spike as the timer went. "If you'd all like to take your seats…"

Lunch passed without mishap, though Buffy felt slightly uncomfortable, seated as she was between Angel and Spike. They seemed to be vying for her attention, helping her to vegetables, or refilling her glass. Once or twice she caught Willow looking at them with amusement, and managed a long-suffering smile.

After lunch they played games for a while until Anya, Xander and Giles left. Then they started watching a film while Spike went to clear up in the kitchen. After a while, Buffy found to her surprise that Angel's possessiveness, his arm constantly around her, was beginning to irritate her. She extricated herself at one of the commercial breaks, and muttered that she was going to the kitchen to find some food.

She shut the kitchen door behind her with what could only be called relief. Spike looked at her, surprised. "I - uh, just wondered if there was any food…"

He smiled. "Plenty of cold goose left. Here, cut yourself some from the carcass," he said, handing her a knife.

"Thanks." She wasn't really concentrating, watching him as he put crockery away, at home in the kitchen. She yelped as the knife slipped and sliced into her finger. "Ow!" she said, about to suck it. Then she saw the look on Spike's face, and lifted the finger to his mouth instead. A little bead of blood dropped onto his lower lip, and despite himself, his tongue darted out to lick it off.

"Uh…" She could see him trying to fight back the demon.

"It's okay," she said softly, easing her finger between his lips. "I won't miss it. And anyway, it'll heal faster."

He licked her finger a little uncertainly, only sucking gently when she leant against him, steadied by his arms around her. She'd forgotten how good it felt…

She blinked rapidly as he let her hand fall. Her finger had stopped bleeding, the cut was barely noticeable. "Thank you," he murmured.

She wrapped her arms around him. "For what?"

"For - for the blood. You didn't have to."

"No. But I wanted to. Maybe to say thank you for cooking the meal. It was really nice." She smiled. "Much better than the turkey!"

He chuckled. "Better let me cut the goose for you, though."

At that moment, Angel walked in. "What are you doing with my girl?" he demanded.

Buffy spun round, annoyed. "I'm not your girl. You left me, remember? And I was hugging Spike. To say thanks for cooking for us."

It was obvious that Angel was jealous and wasn't going to let it drop. "I thought we had an understanding. You kissed me under the mistletoe…"

"Actually, you kissed me," she reminded him. "And you weren't the only person I've kissed under the mistletoe, either."

"What - him!" he choked. "You - you whore! I never thought you capable of that!" He stormed off into the basement, only to reappear moments later with his bag, stalking out of the front door. Buffy moved to go after him, but Willow stopped her, having heard the scene.

"Let me deal with it," she said gently. "Spike, make sure she's okay."

Buffy looked as though he'd slapped her face as Spike sat her down on the sofa. She was trembling with rage. "Did you hear what he just called me?" she demanded angrily.

"Sh, love, he didn't mean it, he knows you're not really," he soothed. "He's just jealous 'cos you were hugging me, and 'cos you kissed me under the mistletoe. Probably feeling a tad foolish for having assumed it meant more to you last night than it actually did, too. Take no notice." He didn't add that he'd thought the same when he'd seen them kissing.

Outside, they could hear Willow arguing with him. "You can't just walk back into her life and expect to carry on where you left off," she fumed. "Especially after what you did. For God's sake, Angel, why couldn't you just have told her you didn't love her any more? Then she'd have got over you instead of mooning over you for years and years and wrecking her chances of a happy relationship. You have no right to be jealous of Spike. It was your decision to leave her. And after all you've put her through, you should be glad she still even wants to be friends with you."

There was an inaudible mutter, almost a growl, from Angel.

"You don't know? Well, I'll tell you. You were her first love. You took her virginity and turned into a monster. You tormented and tortured all of us. You left her, and left me to pick up the pieces. And where have you been when she's needed you most? Where were you when Joyce was ill in hospital? Where were you when Glory nearly killed Dawn? Where were you when she sacrificed herself to save the world? Where were you when she was trying to readjust when she came back? Huh? Where were you when she most needed you?"

He muttered something about Angel Investigations.

"And I suppose the people who work for you are too incompetent to be left looking after the business for a couple of days? Face up to it, Angel. You weren't there when she needed you most. Spike was. It was Spike who picked up the pieces. Time and time again. Spike who comforted her, looked after her. Every time."

There was the sound of an engine starting, a car pulling away.

"And it's stupid, childish and selfish just to run away from it like this!" she yelled after him. The front door slammed shut. Willow crept into the living room, shamefaced. "Uh. Sorry."

Buffy gave her a wry smile. "Don't be," she said, to Spike's surprise. "I couldn't have said it. But it needed to be said." She went up to her room to try to clear her mind.

Chapter 4: In dulci jubilo

It was late in the evening when the phone rang. Spike answered. It was Angel. He handed Buffy the phone and went back to the kitchen.

She sat down on the sofa. "Yeah?"

"I - I've been thinking about what Willow said earlier," he said meekly. "You probably heard most of it. Anyway, she was right. I have been selfish, and arrogant, and thoughtless - just assuming you'd jump at the chance of going back out with me. It just didn't occur to me. And she was right about Spike, too. He's been really good to you lately. I guess it would be no wonder if - you know…"

"We're not together," she said softly.

"No, Willow said. But -" she could tell it was hard for him to say it, "I'm sure he'd be able to make you happy, if you were."

"Angel -"

"I do still love you. I can't lie to you about that, whatever Willow says. I love you, and I always will. I just - wanted to set things straight, and apologise, for - for what I called you. I didn't mean it. And - for wrecking your Christmas. I knew how important it was to you. And for just leaving the way I did. I was being childish - and someone over two hundred years old should know better than that." There was a long pause. "I know - I've behaved really badly. But - will you try again?"

She sighed, sadly, hearing the words she'd so often dreamt of hearing. Why did it always have to be hard? She knew what her decision was, however. "It won't work, Angel. We've had our chance. I think it would only make things worse if we tried." She knew she was only trying to soften the blow. So did he.

"I - thought you'd say that," he said. "But I had to try - give it one last shot. We - had something good…"

"Once, maybe," she said gently. "But that's over now."

"Can we - at least be friends?"

Tears pricked at her eyes. "Of course," she whispered. "Always."

There was an audible sniff. "Take care, then."

"You too." She felt sad as she hung up, but relieved as well. At least she and Angel were still friends. But his actions earlier had made her realise that being with him wouldn't work. Spike might be jealous of other people, but at least he never made a scene in public about it.

He appeared at the door. "Everything okay?" he asked uncertainly.

She looked up at him and shrugged. "We decided not to get back together."

She found herself immediately cocooned in his arms. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. He's a fool to let you go again, like this…"

She gave a shaky laugh, shaking her head. "Not his decision. Mine. He wanted me to go back out with him, and I said no."

He looked at her, stunned, for an instant. "Oh!"

She laid her head on his shoulder. "Willow was right - what she said earlier. And his reaction - it kinda shocked me, I didn't think he'd be like that. I mean, he apologised on the phone, but it shouldn't have happened at all…"

"Love, are you sure…"

Love. It was a long time since he'd called her that. She smiled. "I'm sure. I had a dream last night. You remember Hallowe'en - when you nearly killed me?"

He nodded. "Yeah. But -"

"Well - it was the same scene, almost, but there was nobody else there. You were - as you are now; and I was as I was then - though still me, the slayer."

"I was as I am now but still wanted to kill you?" he asked, confused. "Not terribly logical."

"No, but - dreams aren't, always. Anyway, you were bending over me, about to bite me. Willow woke me up at that point. But the funny thing is, I wasn't scared. I wanted you to bite me, to take me…"

"If you're worried that I'm intending…"

"No, no. It - it didn't worry me, even when I woke up. I wanted you to do it. I wanted you to -"

"You wanted me to kill you?" he asked. "Slayer death-wish?"

She shook her head, wondering how she could make him understand without saying the words. "No. At least, I don't know. I wanted - in the dream, that is - I wanted you to bite me. To take me - take possession of me completely, all of who I was as the slayer, all of who I was as Buffy, at the time." She saw the confused look on his face. "I - I'd never been bitten before," she stammered, blushing. "And Angel and I - well, we were together, but we hadn't - uh, we'd never - uh, and I hadn't, with anyone else. Um. And in the dream, I - I wanted it to be you."

Deep, meltingly blue eyes looked into hers. "You wanted your first time to be with me?" he asked softly.

"Uh - in the dream, yes. Like I said, to take possession of me." She paused. "That sounds kinda weird."

He smiled faintly. "Most dreams do."

"I guess."

"So. You turned Angel down because you dreamt of me biting you?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "No, I turned Angel down because I realised I'm in love with you," she said, before she gave herself a chance to change her mind about saying it. "The dream, the scene he made earlier - they just confirmed it."

"Oh!" He didn't know what else to say.

She looked up at him tentatively. "uh, I'm a bit hazy on what's meant to happen next."

He bit his lip. "Um. Me too. Any suggestions?"

"Well, I -" She took a sprig of mistletoe from her pocket. "I, uh…"

He smiled, taking it from her. "You really need the excuse?"

"I - I don't know. Do I?" she asked uncertainly. He shook his head and kissed her gently. "Oh, God, I've missed you!" she breathed, holding him tightly. She looked up at him, half-frightened, half-excited. "Take me," she murmured breathlessly. "Take possession of me, make me yours…"

Cold fangs set her blood on fire, making her body sing with love for him, his love for her humming through him, into her bloodstream. She let herself surrender to him completely, and felt almost washed away by the flood of emotions that hit her. Then the fangs were gone, and a gentle tongue cleaned the mark that branded her as his.

The dream, her Christmas wish, had come true. She'd found her love. And she was happy.