Title: Christmas 1999
Rating: PG-13 (references to illegal drug use)
Description: How some of the gang spent Christmas during AtS Season 1, Buffy season 4
After the fourth time that Wesley asked, casually, very deliberately casually, what plans Angel and Cordelia had for the holidays, Cordy took matters into her own hands.
"Angel," she said, "I don't think he has anywhere else to go."
"Well." Angel looked uncomfortable. "Do you want to take him back to Sunnydale and have dinner with your parents?"
"Do I --? No! Ewww! Do you know what they'd think if I brought a guy home for Christmas?"
Angel looked blank.
"That we were dating!" said Cordy. "Seriously dating!"
Now Angel looked confused. "Well, didn't you want to go out with Wesley last spring?"
"No!" she said. "OK, yes. But it was temporary insanity brought on by those suits he used to wear. I wonder what happened to those suits."
Angel shrugged. "Maybe he sold them to buy his motorcycle." He frowned and asked, "So if you don't want to take Wesley to your parents. . ."
"Angel, I don't even want to go to my parents'. My dad's gonna be in a bad mood because of the whole house arrest thing, my mom has barely come downstairs since the Bush administration, and they're just gonna be moody because they can't afford to give me stuff – and I'll be moody because I can't afford stuff, and – I know!" she said, trying to look as though she had just come up with the idea. "Why don't you and me and Wesley have Christmas here?"
Angel rubbed his forehead and tried not to look at her. "Cordy, I haven't really done Christmas since – well, I was human. Last year, I was being tortured by the ghosts of my victims, and the year before I was. . ."
"Evil?" she said.
"No, just – occupied."
"With the brooding," said Cordy. "Tell me, how'd that work out for you?" When he didn't answer, she said, "Christmas Eve, my place, 4 o'clock."
Wesley pushed his way through the door with his arms full of bags. "First footing," he cried.
Cordy stared, "Huh?"
"I'm the first one here." He flushed a little.
"It's a thing they say in England," Angel explained, stepping up behind Wes. "Only, sorry, you're not."
Cordy shrugged and said, "He's stealthy. It happens to everybody."
"Oh," said Wesley and then, as the grocery bags floated from his hands, he jumped, scrambled to his pockets, and produced a cross.
"Calm down," said Cordy. "It's just phantom Dennis. And he's HELPING."
Wesley replaced the cross and smoothed his shirt front. "Well," he said, "I managed to find both a mince pie and a plum pudding.
"What?" Cordy said. "Just for you and me?"
Angel coughed. "I could have some pie too. Besides, it would be nice to have some around. Eat it every day between now and twelfth night. And, and. . ." He lifted a pie out of Wes's bag. "Don't forget, we'll need to make a wish on the first mince pie of the season and oh my God, Wesley! You found Christmas crackers."
"Crackers?" Cordelia wailed. "On top of pie?"
Angel lifted a tube covered in red crepe paper, grabbed both ends, and pulled them until it popped. Angel jumped to the floor and stood, triumphant, with a foil-wrapped candy. "Wesley, these are great! I haven't seen these since. . .Where'd you find them?"
"Made them, actually," he said. "It's actually quite simple, you just take the cardboard roll. . ."
Cordy cleared her throat. "So I guess you Island Geek boys aren't up for just getting high and watching Snoopy?"
They stared. After a moment, Wesley said, "Good God, you are the perfect woman."
She smiled. "That's my boys. Then when we're really lit, we can crank call Xander Harris and that crazy girl who tried to kill me in an alternate dimension."
Wesley frowned. "I don't really know them that well, but. . .do you have Rupert Giles' number?
Angel laughed. "Yeah, that sounds OK. And maybe we could call. . ." Simultaneously, Wesley and Cordelia said, "NOT BUFFY," then looked at each other and smiled.
Angel slumped. "Do you guys not have any Christmas spirit?"
Again, together they said, "No."
"All right." Angel shrugged, then brightened. "So how about some pie?"
TBC