CHAPTER THREE
"You're seriously going to light that thing?" Spike eyed the log as Willow carved a sun into its pine body.
"It's the Yule log," she replied, not looking up from her silver knife.
"Nothing like a roaring fire when it's hot outside," Cordy said, lounging back against Spike. She wore a deep green velvet dress, looking as perfectly coifed as ever, ready for the Watchers holiday party they were all about to head off to.
"I like a nice fire for the holidays," Giles said, pouring pre-party eggnog for everyone. "Of course, back home, a fire was appropriate for the season."
"Yeah, I still miss Christmas in Boston," Faith said, leaning her head on Connor's shoulder. She looked dashing in red, a perfect compliment to Connor's green.
"The holidays might have had more ambiance if we had traveled to London rather than have you come here," Angel said, looking for a place to hide the Santa's hat Buffy kept putting on his head. He had no intention of going to the Watchers' holiday party with a silly hat.
"Maybe if we sang carols," Faith suggested. "I can start. This is one of my favorites. Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright."
Buffy and Cordy joined in until all three women made a communal face. "We're really bad," Cordy said.
"How about you, Watcher. You sing," Spike said.
"All right." Giles set aside his eggnog. "It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old."
Giles did a much better job of singing. Buffy put her hands around Angel. "Why don't you sing us an Irish carol?"
"You don't want that," Spike warned, shuddering.
"For once, he's right," Angel said.
"Oh come on, be a sport," Xander said obviously relishing the idea of Angel making a fool of himself.
"Yeah, Dad." Connor hugged Sorcha. "Tell grand dad how much you want to hear him sing."
"Sing!" Sorcha ordered.
Angel glared at Connor. "Okay but don't say you weren't warned. The holly green, the ivy green The prettiest picture you've ever seen is Christmas in Killarney with all of the folks at home."
Buffy put her hands over his mouth. "That's plenty."
"You sing for Lorne don't you? How much do you hate the poor man?" Xander laughed.
"I warned you," Angel said then changed the topic. "Willow, is the fire almost ready?"
"Fire!" Sorcha demanded, bouncing on her father's lap. She had insisted on her plaid nightie even though it was a bit warm for it in L.A.
Connor tapped her chin. "What's that word we say if we want Santa to visit?"
Sorcha rolled her blue eyes at him, huffing . "Please."
Willow laughed, grinning up at the child. "We're almost ready, sweetie."
"She's as excited about fire as she is about weapons. Is anyone else afraid?" Buffy asked, raising her hand. Several others went up. Buffy wondered how much trouble her niece would be in years to come. "Angel, where's your hat?"
"Waiting for a passing accident to happen to it," he grumbled.
"If the rest of us have to dress like idiots, you aren't escaping, Dead Boy," Xander said, ticking a finger off the belled, fuzzy ball on the end of his hat.
"I'm not taking fashion advice from a man who does something called the 'Snoopy dance'," Angel said, as Buffy dug the hat out of the couch cushions.
Buffy crammed the hat down on Angel's head. "No bashing on the Snoopy dance. Xander doing the Snoopy dance is a long-standing tradition."
"So, his dementia is far-reaching. I don't see how that equates me wearing a Santa hat," Angel grumbled, batting her hands away.
"Do you want a little...?" Spike made a poking action with his fist. "Because if you do, you have to wear the hat." He pointed to the one on his head.
Angel sighed and rearranged the hat.
"Now, that's settled, I think it's bed time for a certain little girl," Buffy said.
Sorcha gripped Connor's waist, shaking her head. "Fire, first."
"I think we can let her see the Yule fire go up," Connor said, gesturing to the fireplace Willow sat beside. "Besides, I think she needs to leave a little something for Santa yet."
"That's right," Buffy said, holding a hand out to Sorcha. "Come on, I'll help you get Santa some cookies."
"I know he really likes thumbprints," Connor said as Sorcha slithered off his lap.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "We'll see what we can do." She took Sorcha into the kitchen.
Cordy leaned over to Angel. "So we're going to bring all the gifts over tonight after the Watcher party?"
Angel nodded. "That's the plan."
"I can't believe I'm going to be seen at a Watcher party," Spike moaned, smoothing out his viler and black holiday shirt that Cordy had selected and 'highly suggested' he wear. "I used to have a reputation."
"And now you have us," Cordy reminded him archedly.
"Not the same thing," he grumbled, realized his faux pas and quickly added. "It's much better this way."
"Good save," Giles smirked, the quaffed some of the alcohol-rich egg nog.
"I'll just be glad to get the you-know-what's out of our house," Spike said, casting a glance at the kitchen knowing how well Sorcha could hear. "The scrawny one gives me the creeps. Leave it to Peaches to get a defective furball."
Angel eyed him grimly. "Don't blame me. Buffy picked them out."
"I think she's sophisticated," Cordy said. "You can see how expensive they are."
"Good old Cordelia, still wooed by designer labels," Xander said and she tossed a pillow at him.
"I can't wait to see them," Faith said. "Sorcha's going to be so excited."
"I hope," Angel said uneasily. "I've never really had a you-know-what around...not since I was last mortal."
"I'm fairly sure they haven't changed much, Dad, except now they appear to require a lot of toys" Connor said, a happy gleam in his blue eyes. "I had a pet demon when I was her age."
"Which is its own flavor of creepy." Faith kissed his pouty lips.
"Okay, the log is ready." Willow said, setting it in the fire place. She got up and lit the red candles she had on the altar by the Christmas tree. Three pillar candles pushed up from the heaps of evergreens, bay, holly, ivy, and rosemary on the Solstice altar.
"We've got Santa's cookies," Buffy announced as she came back with a plateful of cookies, heavy on the peanut butter Hershey kiss thumbprints.
"An' nog," Sorcha said, carrying a glass of egg nog solemnly, both hands wrapped tight around the glass.
Connor got up, "Put it here on the mantle, Sorcha." He reached for a thumbprint on the platter as Buffy set it down and his daughter slapped him.
"Those are Santa's," she told him sternly.
He rubbed his slapped hand. "I think Santa will be very full after all those cookies."
"Santa's," she argued, leveling her blue eyes at him.
"We're going to start the Yule fire, sweetie," Willow said and Sorcha clapped her hands. Willow pointed at the long. "Incendi." The log ignited, yellow-red flames reaching up. "I light this fire in your honor, Mother Goddess."
Sorcha 'ooo'ed' as the flames rose, her eyes watching them dance. Connor scooped her up as the doorbell rang. Giles let in Rosemary, one of the fifteen year old Slayers, Sorcha's usual babysitter while they were in L.A.
"Hi, looks like everyone's in the party mood," Rosemary said, brushing her frizzy blonde hair back. "One of these days I'll be old enough to get invited." She leveled that look at Giles.
"It'll come faster than you know. We'll just be next door if you need us," Giles said, getting up.
"I'm sure we'll be fine, won't we, Sorcha?" Rosemary said and the girl giggled, holding out her hands to her sitter.
Connor turned her over. "Good night kiss?"
Sorcha captured his face and kissed his cheek then insisted on a kiss for everyone else and reassurances that Santa was indeed coming but only if she were a good girl and went to sleep.
Angel gestured at the cookies and nog on the mantle once Sorcha was upstairs with Rosemary. "Isn't it supposed to be milk?"
Connor picked up the nog. "I hate milk." He drank the egg nog.
"What do you think's in that?" Angel asked, discreetly taking off his hat and trying to hide it again.
"Give it up, Angel. This is the same argument we have over tomatoes. He won't eat them unless they're on pizza or as spaghetti sauce," Buffy said, grabbing the hat and shoving it back on Angel's head.
"How does he escape wearing a hat?" Angel gestured at Giles.
"I sadly do not have a stubborn girlfriend intent on making me look foolish," Giles retorted and Angel grimaced.
Connor took a thumbprint, as well. "Party time?"
"You said it, baby," Faith grabbed his arm and started hauling him toward the door.
"The first person to take a picture of me with the hat dies," Angel said.
"Now that sounds like a challenge," Spike says, grinning cheerfully until Cordy elbowed him in the ribs.
"Hush, Grinch," Buffy said, shoving him after his son. "Get moving. Wes, Lorne, and Gunn are already waiting for us."
The group came back much later, half looped on nog and rum punch. Rosemary helped them drag over the insane amount of gifts to put under the tree while Spike went back to his place across the large Watchers' compound to retrieve the cats. Buffy surveyed the mountain of gifts, shaking her head.
"How am I getting this all back to England?"
Angel slid an arm around her. "I was hoping maybe that you might think about staying here," he whispered. He pressed a finger to her lips. "Don't answer now. Just think about it. The school could use you here, use Xander, Willow, and Giles, too. And Connor would do good with a city like this to hunt in. I know he's been out patrolling with you a lot lately. Just think about it, sleep on it."
"I don't have to," she whispered back. "I can't speak for the others, but I would love to come back here."
Angel smiled, hugging her tight. "We'll talk to the others later."
"Good idea because I think I had a little too much punch." She grinned at him, indeed having a somewhat glazed look to her eyes.
Angel scooped her up, carrying her upstairs to hoots and outcries from the others.
Spike put the cat carriers down. "These things were supposed to be sleeping with them tonight."
Wes smiled. "They can stay in my room."
"To hell with that. Those cats have tormented me for days. It's Peaches' turn," Spike grumbled. "Let me get their crap boxes and me and Cordy are out of here."
"Now there's a Christmas sentiment for us," Faith said wryly.
Spike snorted and headed out the door. He came back quickly and muscled cats and boxes upstairs. Everyone could hear Buffy's scream of shock; Angel's bellow for Spike to get out and Spike's retort of 'think I bloody wanted to see that?'
"Hearing that...time for another drink," Xander said, shuddering.
"I think turning in would be a good idea for all of us. Morning is going to come quick enough and then..." Giles gestured to the gifts.
"Good point. And we still have to print out the digital pictures of Angel taping the mistletoe to his ass." Faith grinned wickedly.
"I'm just as glad Spike passed on the invite to kiss it. I don't need more years tacked onto my therapy." Connor smirked.
Laughing, Faith dragged him upstairs.