MISTLETOE AND WINE
O Tannenbaum
By Sauscony

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz
Rating: G
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended.

It was a well-established tradition by now. The big pine tree was set up in the smaller sitting room the week before Christmas. Any gifts for those members of the "Scooby family" who could visit that year were added to the pile on the floor and on Christmas morning, once everyone was gathered, there would be a major bout of present opening. (Always followed the next day by a major bout of cleaning up torn and discarded Christmas paper.)

The tree dominated its corner of the room, occasionally shedding pine needles onto the carpet and always filling the room with its rich, almost warm scent. Neither Buffy nor Giles had ever been prepared too accept anything less than a living, photosynthesising member of the fir family into their home at Christmas, and this year's tree was a particularly impressive member of the species.

It was heavily decorated since Buffy could never bear to leave any potential decoration off. The year they were married they had only had a shoebox of trinkets and a tiny string of lights. Now, as Wesley had grumbled as he hauled the crate up the basement stairs for his mother, they had thirty years worth of accumulated fancies and fripperies. He had predicted that in another year or so the tree would fall over under its own weight, but Buffy had just laughed at him and sent him back for the ladder.

How could she throw anything away when every bauble, every twist of tinsel and string of beads held a memory? It was impossible. And Rupert, understanding, had simply bought them a house with both a big basement and a large attic.

The star at the top had been Rupert's grandmother's - not the one who had been a Watcher, the other one. It was a delicate creation of twisted gold wire and crystal beads and it glittered in the lamplight, just like the star it was supposed to represent.

There were other decorations that had been hers - old fashioned coloured balls with scenes inside, glass creations like spun sugar, bells that chimed in soft, tinkling tones, wire snowflakes and icicles. They were beautiful, precious remnants of a by-gone age from a country that, at times, seemed to belong on another planet altogether from her native Southern California.

There were newer creations too, less expensive, but equally precious. Near the top, twisting though the pine boughs, was a string of lettered beads that had been painstakingly put together by Wesley and Brianna when they were six. It read "Mery Chrismiss Mommy an Daddy", something that had proved to be of great embarrassment to the twins once they learned to spell a little better. They had spent a lot of years trying to stop their mother putting it on the tree, but it never worked. No matter what they did with it, Buffy always managed to track it down and it was always somewhere on the tree come Christmas morning.

There were other homemade decorations, too - Wesley's, Brianna's, Joy's, even a few Buffy and Dawn had made long, long ago when they still lived in Los Angeles. As a teenager, Buffy hadn't been able to understand why Joyce had kept them; now, as a mother herself, she pulled them out every year and added them to the Christmas tree.

Letting her gaze roam across the branches, Buffy felt her breath catch at the sight of a cracked glass icicle hanging near the wall. It was a cheap thing, made of fake crystal and coloured glass, but Buffy made sure that each year it joined everything else on the tree. It had been a gift from Faith that fateful Christmas when she was seventeen, just before everything had fallen apart.

Then there were Rupert's contributions. Thirty of them, one for every year they had been married. From the little green elf he had given her on their first Christmas together to the soft felt reindeer, with lopsided antlers and does eyes, that he had given her just days ago.

As for the newest decoration, that was a paper angel, crudely coloured with red and purple crayon, the roughly cut edges glued together with paste. Miri had proudly presented it to her the morning before, and watched with wide, satisfied eyes as Buffy hung it on the tree.

A lot of meaning and a lot of memories in baubles for a tree. And every single one of them precious and special.

"I still don't get it." Anya's voice suddenly broke in on Buffy's memories, snapping her back to reality and leaving her feeling unexpectedly disoriented.

"Mom!" Jennifer hissed, glaring at her mother, who, as usual, remained totally oblivious.

"Why make funny things when you have money and can buy nicer ones?" Anya sounded genuinely puzzled, and Buffy couldn't decide whether to laugh or shout at her.

Rupert was suddenly beside her, slipping an arm around her waist and making the decision for her. "We like them," he answered patiently. "Everything on our tree means something. They tell us we have friends." His gaze drifted across the room, pausing at each of his children in turn. "They tell us our children love us." His arm at Buffy's waist tightened a moment, pulling her closer. "They tell us we love each other. And that's what Christmas is all about. Love. That's why we have "funny things" on our tree, Anya."

"Oh." She thought about it for a moment. "Okay. That's sweet." She turned to give her own family a challenging look. "But we're still buying nicer ones."