Kay, not that any kiddies should be reading any of this stuff, but just in case:

Santa is very, very real. I have NO idea what Angelus and Buffy are talking about when they say anything other than that. They're completely crazy; what can I say? Don't mind them.

"Angelus?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you awake?"

"I am now."

"Sorry."

"What's wrong, Buffy?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then why are you waking me up at two o'clock in the morning?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"You are talking to me."

"I meant about Christmas."

"Oh, God, bloody woman."

"I'm sorry. I can't stop thinking about it."

"What is there to think about?"

"I don't know. I keep thinking about…promise you won't laugh?"

"No."

"I keep thinking about Santa."

"Oh, kill me now. Didn't mommy ever tell you, Slayer, Mr. Clause is a little, white lie the Christians cooked up to convince others to convert, and make Jews cry on Christmas."

"I know he's not real. I'm not a complete idiot."

"Good to know."

"But they made him up to help children appreciate the birth of their savior. That whole conversion theory is very obviously just you being bitter towards your Catholic, Irish roots."

"But it is to make little Jews cry."

"Santa was not made to make anyone cry."

"Yeah, okay."

"He wasn't!"

"He was. He was created at a time when Christians were certainly looked down upon and the Jews were all claiming that they were the Chosen People. Boy, do people get annoyed when they hear someone talking about being, 'Chosen'."

"...I was Chosen."

"So the Christians cooked up this idea of a jolly, old man who gave everybody lots of toys, and, suddenly, Christians were sitting on top of the religious pile."

"You just made that up."

"I did not."

"Yeah? Where'd you learn it?"

"A book."

"Did the book have a name?"

"Yes, I should think it did."

"And can you tell me the name?"

"It's not one you've heard of."

"Doesn't matter."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I think you're a complete liar."

"And if I spout out the name of a book you've never heard of you'll think of me otherwise?"

"I might look it up."

"Go to sleep, Buffy."

"You're such a liar."

"And you're shocked."

"Well, no, but, still, that's such a stupid thing to lie about."

"It's a stupid thing to wake someone up in the middle of the night to discuss, as well."

"Sorry, I was just thinking about how warm it is."

"Christmas?"

"Yeah."

"Generally, it's cold at Christmas, no?"

"Not in South America."

"Go to sleep, Buffy."

"And besides, I didn't mean the temperature; I meant the feeling of it. Christmas comes with this, like, amazing, warming feeling. Nothing else in the world makes me feel like Christmas does."

"Well, you haven't tried anything, yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know plenty of things that create amazing, warming sensations without the birth of a savior."

"Such as?"

"Alcohol, marijuana, ecstasy..."

"You've tried all of them?"

"Buff, I've tried everything. Many things more than once."

"That's disgusting. Drugs are gross."

"Gross?"

"Yeah, you know, sickening, foul, vulgar?"

"No, no. I comprehend the meaning of the word; I was just unaware that anyone over the age of five still used it."

"Oh, you're so funny."

"Aww, now she's all upset."

"I don't know why I try and talk to you; you're always mean to me."

"Baby, you said, 'gross."

"Goodnight, Angelus."

"Oh, come on. Tell me about the warm and fuzzies you get when you think of a Middle-Eastern virgin pushing your savior out of her--"

"Ew! Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!"

"...Something wrong?"

"I am never going to get that image out of my head!"

"What image?"

"You know what image."

"Oh, Buffy, child birth is a beautiful, beautiful thing."

"Yeah, you would know."

"Better than you would."

"What do you mean? Have you...seen it?"

"Once or twice."

"Why?"

"Senior health."

"Angelus."

"I was there. It happened."

"Oh, really. Who's birth did you witness?"

"Mommy never gave it a chance to give it a name."

"Why not?"

"Well--"

"No! Never mind; don't say anything. I get it."

"Good girl."

"All right. So, now that Christmas is ruined forever..."

"Hey, bad things happen when you don't let evil beings get their beauty sleep."

"Apparently."

"Now, close your eyes and get some sleep."

"Fine."

"Eyes closed?"

"Yeah."

"What are you thinking about?"

"A Middle-Eastern virgin shoving my savior out of her--"

"Good night, Buffy."

Happy Holidays, everyone! Please, review!