It was almost Christmas again. Four days away. Sunnydale was transformed, red and green streamers all about, jolly Santa's standing in front of grocery stores, ringing a bell, hoping to make some money to give to kids who would be getting no Christmas presents. Those cute little children had no family, no money, hardly any clothing. They had nothing but each other.

William wondered, as he sat there, leaning his back against a building, watching one of these fat men in way too much clothing. Why couldn't there be a 'Save the William Foundation'? Unlike the kids, he didn't have friends. There was no one he could go to for support. These streets, which were filled with Holiday cheer and smiling faces, this was his home. His bed was a box, which was located in an alleyway on Thorn Street.

At this moment, he envied that Saint Nick. That man in the outfit had a life. He'd probably go home to a wonderful wife and kids who are just so excited for Christmas to be there. He probably had a dog, a cat, a barbeque, clothing, food to eat. William hadn't eaten in maybe ten days. The last bit of food he'd eaten were a couple fries that he'd had to fight some pigeons over.

Sighing very lightly, he moved his crystal blue eyes to the sidewalk he sat on. The clothes he had on were pitiful. There were tears and holes all over. His blue jeans were worn and torn at the knees. They no longer looked like they had been navy at all. If he were to stand up, he'd need to hold his pants up. He'd lost 20 pounds since he'd put those jeans on. His shirt was once white, but now spotted with dirt and had taken more of a yellow color. It was a t-shirt, and since it was winter, it was especially hard to stay warm. Underneath that shirt he once had abs that could kill and attract. Now, they were only faintly there. His ribs were sticking out way too much. Losing that weight was only bad for him. He hadn't weighed much when he still lived in a house.

"A flat..." He whispered to himself, his British accent full and husky. Man, he sure did miss having a roof over his head. But he was starting to forget what it was like. He hadn't set foot into a home since he'd lost his. These streets, they've been his home for two hundred and sixty-five days yesterday, two hundred and sixty-six today. How he'd manage to survive this long was beyond him.

When he'd lived in his one bedroom, he'd had clothes, food, and even a female dog named Angel. ((A/N: Hehe.)) But she was taken away from him right along with his house. He was an artist, usually making pictures with chalk or simply drawing with pencil. At one time, he would sit for hours and just draw and he was damn good at it. His pictures were usually of things he wished he could have, like a family, a barbeque (he was passionate about the barbeque thing), a house right off the lake, the sun, the moon, the stars. He'd always been great with selling his paintings and made good money, but when his father died, he had to go to England to pay for the funeral. He had left nothing for William in his will. When he got back to California, he had no desire to draw and slowly lost his money. He had no money to pay for rent and started to sell his things to do so. The guy who owned Spike's house became tired of it and when he had arrived home one day, there was a lock on the door. He wasn't allowed to have anything inside.

Now, he still wanted all those things, but if he were to draw something at this moment, it would be food.

His skin was once real pale, but now it was quite tan from being in the sun for such a long time. If he were to develop skin cancer, he wouldn't be too shocked, or disappointed. His hair had been a bleached blonde and was always combed back, his very attractive cheekbones matching the Billy Idol style. Even though Billy was older than he was, a good thirty years older, William, or Spike at the time, swore up and down it was his idea first. He'd developed the bad boy persona at the age of sixteen and kept it until he was kicked out of his own home, now he was twenty-five. The day that had happened, his clothes were still nice, and he'd had a black belt to hold his pants up, but after a week on the streets, he'd sold it for a bit of cash for food. If he were to get back on his feet financially, he'd probably go right back to it too. But for now, his hair was s bit shy of shoulder length and it was scraggly. In a couple places, his hair was still bleached faintly, the rest of his hair brown. Tilting his head forward, it made a shield around his face.

He'd moved to Sunnydale the day after he finished high school. His father abused him and his mother had been gone since he was five, so he had no reason to stay. He packed up and left, ignoring his parent's drunken cries of displeasure. The older man was so wasted. It was terrible. But, he had gotten used to having another woman at the house every night and the alcohol that was on his father's breath even when he wasn't drinking.

Spike slowly became like his father. He'd go out and find a cute little thing to shag for the night, then drink himself to sleep. However, unlike his father, he would never hurt someone intentionally, especially a smaller, helpless child.

Over the years, he'd gone from little Will, who he was as a kid, then to Spike, the bad boy, and now he was William, the nothing. The nothing who would be alone for another Christmas. Even when he had a house, his Christmases were for himself. And the two girls who he'd taken home were just for fun. With this appearance, he wouldn't be getting a girl, let alone two to satisfy his cravings.

Buffy Summers passed a hand through her golden hair, carrying groceries to her car. A teen girl came waddling after her, carrying a couple heavy bags, brown hair swishing side to side. Once safely at the car, the girl set the bags down and sighed. "I don't see why we need so much eggnog. Mom and I don't drink eggnog."

Buffy pulled her keys from her pocket and stuck one into the trunk of her white economy car. She opened it up and stuck the groceries inside. "Dawn, I already told you. The eggnog is for the kids at the shelter." Grabbing the bags off the ground, she set them in with the rest, then closed it. Glancing back at the Santa, she smiled softly. "Get in the car. I'll be back." Handing the keys to Dawn, she went back to the front of the Vons and pulled out some money, sticking it into the red sack the man held.

"Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas!" The Santa said, then leaned to Buffy. "That's the sixth time you've been to the store and every time you give it more." He pulled down his fake beard and kissed Buffy on the cheek. "They'll appreciate it."

The twenty-two year old woman beamed and nodded. "I'm always happy to help around Christmas. Good luck."

The man smiled and stood straight. "Happy Holidays!"

She waved then made her way back to her car, finding her younger sister Dawn who was sitting on the trunk, looking out at something. "Hey. What's up? Why are you out here?" Her voice was soft and she tried to follow her Dawn's eyes. When she did, she frowned. There was a man sitting against a wall, looking so depressed and impossibly skinny.

Dawn looked at the older Summers girl and smiled a little. "Can we help him too?" Although she was a seventeen year old ticking time-bomb, she still had a heart of gold and loved to help people just as much as her sister.

Even when Buffy was a child, she was never afraid to help someone out. If someone was hungry or lonely, she'd do her best to help them out. She's encountered some people who were just so stubborn and didn't want the help, but there were also those who greatly accepted her company and looked at Buffy as if she were heaven sent. She wondered how this poor man would respond. "Yeah. We can. Get in."

Dawn's smile spread along her face and she got in the passenger seat, looking down at her brown pants, brushing them off. Then she felt guilty. She was cleaning herself off before going over and talking to a lonely man. What was she trying to say, that she was better than he was? That she could clean herself up and he couldn't? The girl really wished the dust that she'd gotten on her jeans from sitting on the car would come back.

William basked in his loneliness for a moment before looking up at the Santa again. But the man wasn't alone anymore. There was a woman who he wished he could see up close. Her blonde hair was radiant in the sun. His heart lurched and he gulped. Maybe she would come talk to him? Maybe she had food! Well, of course she had food. She was at the grocery store. He was getting his hopes up.

The small woman in a pair of blue jeans, which were in a much nicer state than his own, gave off such cheery vibes, even though he was on the other side of the street. She seemed to glow. Her hunter green t-shirt which had some design on the front, hung onto each and every curve of her body. He suddenly wished he could just touch her. She seemed too perfect to be real. When the jovial large man leaned down and pulled down his faulty beard and placed a kiss on her cheek, he envied him. The man had something else that he wanted.

His hand was itching to draw her. And suddenly, food didn't seem so appealing.

He watched how she moved as she made her way to her car. A breath hitched in his throat and he bit his lower lip. Maybe he could chew out his heart. That could satisfy a couple of his urges. Once she was at her car, he saw the brown haired teenager staring at him. Becoming very self-conscious, he looked at the ground and turned a bit so his side was against the wall. He curled up within himself when a breeze past through the chilly air, making his skin burn from it being so cold. It was one of those wintery days where the sun was out, but the air was not warm at all. The day was beautiful, just not for him.

Slowly, he looked up, seeing the white car pull out of its parking spot. Like so many other good things in his life, she was leaving. The car turned and headed off down the street. Closing his eyes, he wanted to cry, but didn't do so. It was silly of him to want to cry over something like that. He didn't see the car make a U-turn and pull up next to the sidewalk in front of him. But he heard the squeak of the breaks and his eyebrows drew together. Opening his eyes, he saw that little white car with the small blonde angel.

Buffy stopped the car and pulling the keys out of the ignition, asking Dawn to stay in the car, then she stepped out, her high heels clicking against the ground. She went around the front of her car and went to him. "Hi…" Her voice was soft.

William slowly looked up at her and then looked around. Realizing her beautiful eyes were staring at him, he sat up straight. "Hi." He whispered back, his voice kind of shaky. His heart was beating so much faster than it should be. The beautiful woman, whose shirt had brown roses on it, was talking to him.

She saw the pain in his eyes and wished she could just see him smile. Ignoring the fluttering in her heart, she slowly knelt in front of him. "You look very hungry. And cold.."

The man nodded a little, his body shivering from the mixture of emotions it was receiving. "I hate Christmastime." He told her quietly.

Watching him, she blinked. "How could you hate Christmas?" Her mind slowly processed all the reasons why a homeless man would not like the holidays where families are all together and they sometimes have a Christmas dinner and share presents.

He slowly closed his eyes, figuring she would get it.

Biting on her lower lip, she frowned. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to.."

William interrupted her. "Don't worry." His eyes were open again, watching her. "Don't frown." He whispered.

She got a rather confused look and sat down, cross-legged, in front of him. Her frown did go away though. "Why not?"

"Your smile...It's gorgeous how you seem to glow. Don't frown."

That got her to smile widely. "Thank you. I wish I could see your smile." She said softly.

One of his shoulders shrugged. "Not too much to smile about. You're the firs' person I've talked to in a while."

"Oh…" She whispered and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "I…um…I'm sorry."

"You didn' do anythin', love. Don't worry 'bout me. Have a Merry Christmas, alright? You keep apologizin' as if you did something wrong. You've only made my day by comin' to talk to me." He told her.

She slowly stood up. "Would you like some money for food or something? Or maybe to come over for lunch?"

His brown eyebrows slowly drew together. "I just met you. What if I'm evil?"

"If you were evil you wouldn't like my smile." She held out her hand to him. "C'mon." Her delicate hand was waiting patiently. "What could it hurt?"

"Your boyfriend's feelin's." He said as he watched her.

Blinking, she laughed a little. "I don't have a boyfriend. I'm single. And I plan to stay that way for a while."

"Bad experience?" He asked softly, not really sure why he cared, but he did.

She chuckled and nodded. "Oh yeah." Before, when it happened, and the months afterwards, she would cry and cry at the mention of it. But that was a while ago and now she was alright to talk about everything. "C'mon. I'd really like you to join us."

"Us?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"My sister Dawn and I. Possibly my mom."

"Your mum? I can't go to your house lookin' like this! And why do you live with your mum?" He asked, curiously.

"I don't. I'm visiting for Christmas. I live in the mountains, five hours from here."

"Oh." Why was it that he felt disappointed? Uh, duh. Because she was the only person to talk to him and she was like an angel.

"Please come? You can take a shower and shave and stuff. My stepfather has his shaver and everything. He won't be there though. He's a truck driver." She persuaded him.

Slowly, he took her hand and let her help him up. His other hand moved to his pants and he held them up. "Alright."

She saw that he had to hold up his pants and stopped herself from frowning. "We'll get you something to wear too. And you know what? You don't know my name. I'm Buffy. Buffy Summers."

For the first time in a long time, he smiled a little. It was for a faint second, but he smiled. "I'm…Spike." William didn't sound like such a good name for him anymore. Maybe he wasn't exactly hopeless.

Giggling a little, she watched him. "Spike? Like on your birth certificate it says Spike insert-last-name-here?" She asked.

Spike decided right then that he loved the sound of her giggling and he could get used to it. Oh man, he was in over his head here. He needed to stop acting as if he would be staying with her. But wouldn't that be cool to live in the same house as an angel? "No. It's William Fierce. I prefer Spike."

Nodding, she smiled. "Alright. Nice to meet you, Spike."

"The pleasure's all mine, kitten."

Buffy kept that smile of hers and went to the passenger door. She opened it up. "C'mon, youngin'. In the back."
Dawn got out of the car and smiled at the man. "He's coming with us?" She asked.

Spike went to the door behind the passenger one and opened it up. "I can sit in back. It's fine."
Buffy shook her head and grabbed his arm, pointing to the passenger seat. Then she pulled her hand back. His arm felt like it was an ice block where she touched him. His skin was so cold and hers was so warm. "I'll turn on the heater."

Dawn got in the back and Spike closed the door for her when she was safely inside.

The man scratched his head and got in, Buffy closing the door for him. The window was rolled down, so he looked at her and spoke. "Why are you helpin' me again?"

Buffy went around and got in, sitting in the driver's seat. She reached over Spike, rolling up the window.

Spike gulped and he watched her bend over. She was so close to touching him. His eyes traveled down her back and he saw her brown thong passing the waistline of her jeans. Putting a hand over his mouth, he stopped himself from moaning.

She sat back up when she was finished and gave him a weird look.

He started to cough, like that was the reason for his hand being there. Then he put his hand to his side.

Buying it, she turned on the car and the heater. "I'm helping you because it's Christmastime. I'm going to show you that it's fun."

Spike nodded a little and looked out the window as they started off to the house that he was curious to see. This would be the best Christmas, no doubt.

The girl in the back poked his shoulder. "What's your name?"

He turned and looked at her. "I'm Spike. Nice to meet you, Dawn. You're a cutie like your sis."

Buffy smiled a little when she heard Dawn's giggle.

Spike faced ahead again and sighed, passing a hand through his messy hair.

Then Buffy asked him. "Why are you called Spike?"

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he looked at her. "I'll show you later."

T.B.C.- I hope you guys enjoyed it. It's my first Buffy fic in a while. The more reviews I get the faster I work. Thankies. -