Breaking Tradition
By like a falling star
Traditionally speaking, Christmas morning through evening would be spent with family. After all, Christmas was a time for family get-togethers, wasn't it? Friends would just have to wait for Boxing Day. Christmas was a time for family members to be nice to one another, no matter how incredibly obnoxious the other was being. After all, Christmas was a time for forgiving and repentance and what not, wasn't it?
Well, no. Not in the Summer's household, at least.
"Bye, Dawn, I'm off!" Buffy chirped merrily as she strode out the door, a hefty bag of Christmas presents in hand. Even the Slayer had to take some time off, so why not during Christmas?
"Bye!" Dawn said in between a mouthful of popcorn, barely taking her eyes off the flickering television screen. "Don't come back till you absolutely have to."
In between juggling the bag of her friends' presents, her car keys and her cell phone, Buffy managed to level Dawn a glare. "It's Christmas; can't you even pretend to be nice for once?"
"Not with you, I can't." Dawn said, without batting an eyelid. "Takes up way to much time and effort."
*
Traditionally speaking, Christmas was a fun and jolly season, with bright, glittering fairy lights twinkling on manicured braches and sprigs of fresh, green mistletoe strategically hung from ceilings and in doorways.
If you haven't already got the gist of how the story goes, I'll tell you now: Christmas with Buffy Summers was likely to be anything but traditional.
The rest of the house was fairly normal for a millionaire family, so to speak. Gleaming white walls, immaculately polished marble tiles, thick, plush red carpeting, luxurious, squashy sofas, and about twenty rooms to boot. Which is why they were caught completely off-guard, totally unprepared and horribly unawares for The Room.
"."
". Oz! What a.nice place you've got here!" Willow said, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing miserably.
"Yeah, like, um. a really nice place." Buffy added, nodding vigorously. She wondered if those cobwebs were fake. Did Oz get nightmares sleeping in this place? "Did you, um, did you decorate it yourself?" Decorate was too fancy a word to describe it, actually.
"Yeah, great, huh? The Dingoes came over one day and we had a little fun." Oz told her, gesturing at the walls, which were splashed randomly with black and red and glow-in-the-dark paint, with little splotches of white which Buffy supposed the paint must not have reached. Morbid posters of rock bands were pasted sloppily over the door and windows, with bits of curly cellotape sticking out.
Buffy thanked the heavens that Oz did not dress like his room.
"It's kind of like one of those little caverns where cults meet and practise voodoo and stuff," Cordelia said very tactlessly, wrinkling her nose and trying not to touch anything. Or rather, trying not to let anything touch her.
Angel was very quiet, for lack of anything much to say. He pulled Buffy closer to him, as if afraid that something much reach out any moment and grab her.
Xander was ecstatic. "Hey, cool!" He reached out a single finger and brushed a tangled mass of mossy green stuff smothered with sticky golden glitter glue. It was about the brightest thing in the room. "Is this the Christmas tree?"
*
By like a falling star
Traditionally speaking, Christmas morning through evening would be spent with family. After all, Christmas was a time for family get-togethers, wasn't it? Friends would just have to wait for Boxing Day. Christmas was a time for family members to be nice to one another, no matter how incredibly obnoxious the other was being. After all, Christmas was a time for forgiving and repentance and what not, wasn't it?
Well, no. Not in the Summer's household, at least.
"Bye, Dawn, I'm off!" Buffy chirped merrily as she strode out the door, a hefty bag of Christmas presents in hand. Even the Slayer had to take some time off, so why not during Christmas?
"Bye!" Dawn said in between a mouthful of popcorn, barely taking her eyes off the flickering television screen. "Don't come back till you absolutely have to."
In between juggling the bag of her friends' presents, her car keys and her cell phone, Buffy managed to level Dawn a glare. "It's Christmas; can't you even pretend to be nice for once?"
"Not with you, I can't." Dawn said, without batting an eyelid. "Takes up way to much time and effort."
*
Traditionally speaking, Christmas was a fun and jolly season, with bright, glittering fairy lights twinkling on manicured braches and sprigs of fresh, green mistletoe strategically hung from ceilings and in doorways.
If you haven't already got the gist of how the story goes, I'll tell you now: Christmas with Buffy Summers was likely to be anything but traditional.
The rest of the house was fairly normal for a millionaire family, so to speak. Gleaming white walls, immaculately polished marble tiles, thick, plush red carpeting, luxurious, squashy sofas, and about twenty rooms to boot. Which is why they were caught completely off-guard, totally unprepared and horribly unawares for The Room.
"."
". Oz! What a.nice place you've got here!" Willow said, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing miserably.
"Yeah, like, um. a really nice place." Buffy added, nodding vigorously. She wondered if those cobwebs were fake. Did Oz get nightmares sleeping in this place? "Did you, um, did you decorate it yourself?" Decorate was too fancy a word to describe it, actually.
"Yeah, great, huh? The Dingoes came over one day and we had a little fun." Oz told her, gesturing at the walls, which were splashed randomly with black and red and glow-in-the-dark paint, with little splotches of white which Buffy supposed the paint must not have reached. Morbid posters of rock bands were pasted sloppily over the door and windows, with bits of curly cellotape sticking out.
Buffy thanked the heavens that Oz did not dress like his room.
"It's kind of like one of those little caverns where cults meet and practise voodoo and stuff," Cordelia said very tactlessly, wrinkling her nose and trying not to touch anything. Or rather, trying not to let anything touch her.
Angel was very quiet, for lack of anything much to say. He pulled Buffy closer to him, as if afraid that something much reach out any moment and grab her.
Xander was ecstatic. "Hey, cool!" He reached out a single finger and brushed a tangled mass of mossy green stuff smothered with sticky golden glitter glue. It was about the brightest thing in the room. "Is this the Christmas tree?"
*