A woman stood by a dark window, looking out on the city of Los Angeles. Her silhouette was illuminated by the soft glow of the neon lights outside her window. She watched the rain dripping past and sighed. The sweater at her shoulders started moving in a circular pattern.

"Thank you Dennis," Cordelia said, "but I don't need a back massage. Christmas just isn't the same without snow." She looked around her empty apartment. "Or someone to share it with." She walked over to her couch and plopped down. The blanket on the couch unfolded in mid air and laid itself over her legs.

She was alone this year. While she usually didn't spend this time of year alone or moping in her apartment, she much preferred that to the alternative of being impregnated yet again with demon spawn. She had learned her lesson. The hard way.

But she was warm and cozy and well fed. That was more than the last few Christmases had given her. She was finally making something of herself in this town, even if it wasn't exactly what she had envisioned. She closed her eyes and began to drift to sleep thinking of underarm deodorant commercials.

She awoke with a start and saw the outline of someone sitting in the chair across from her. She sat bolt upright on the couch and turned on a light and gasped. Doyle was sitting there as pretty as you please.

"Hello dahrlin'," he said smiling at her in that quiet way he had when he was being sneaky about something.

"Doyle! What are you doing here! You're …"

"Dead? Yes, I ahm. I came back to give ya a warnin' lass."

"A warning? You've already given me more than enough with these blasted visions, Doyle!"

"Ah yes. Abawt that, I didn't know that would 'appen." He scratched his head with a sheepish grin.

"Really? I'm wondering how you came by the gift yourself Doyle, if all it took was one kiss to give it to me! I've really had enough of you men giving me presents."

"Ahctually, that's what I've come bahk to tell ya Princess. You've got to change your ways or … you'll wind up regrettin' it."

"Change my ways? What ways? What are you talking about?"

"Uhm, you've … I knew I wouldn't be the right pherson for this jawb," he sighed. "You're kinda cloisterin' yourself away."

"Me? Cloister? I'm not a nun!"

"Wait a minute," Doyle threw up his hands in defense, "I wasna sayin' you were. I've just been sent to tell ya that … you need to get out more. I know I was good, but—"

"Don't flatter yourself!"

"I'm just sayin' you could do wit a bit of good cheer lass," he said as he began to fade. "I'd hate to see ya change for anythin'"

Cordelia looked after his shadow, longing to argue with him some more. She missed him more than she cared to admit. She flopped back down on the couch.

"I'm not a nun!" she yelled at the silence surrounding her. A cup of tea floated from the kitchen to the coffee table by her side. She picked it up and took a sip. It was the perfect level of sweetness and milk that she liked. She sighed again. "Thanks Dennis."

She tried to relax and just drink her tea, but Doyle's comments haunted her. She hadn't really changed, had she? Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"See?" she told no one in particular as she got up to answer the door, "I'm not alone. And people do care about me. And I'm not a nun!" She opened the door and gasped again, only this time it was in delight.

"Janice! Oh my God!" she screamed and squealed as she grabbed her old high school friend in a hug.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Janice squealed back. They held each other at arm's length, jumped up and down, and hugged each other again.

"Come in!" Cordelia invited and practically dragged her into the apartment. "God you look … pale," she said in shock.

"Yeah, being dead will do that to you," Janice nodded nonchalantly.

"Dead!" Cordelia shouted.

"Yeah," she moved her long hair off her neck to show the tell-tale 2 holes.

"OhmyGod! You were vamped! Back off!" She ran behind her chair and grabbed a cross off the wall—you could never have too many crosses around—and waved it at Janice. "You can't eat me! I'm not going to be anyone's Christmas dinner!"

"No, that's not why I'm here," Janice laughed. "I'm really dead. I was staked." She parted some of the cleavage on her top to show a hole in her chest. "By Buffy of all people. Can you believe it? Who would've known that she was a vampire slayer! Who would've known that there were vampires for that matter?"

"Yeah," Cordelia walked back around the chair and sank onto the couch again. "Hard to imagine what with our prom dedication to her and all."

"I never knew what people were talking about when that was all going on though," Janice said obliviously. "Anyway," she flounced into a seat on the chair, "that's not why I'm here. I came to see you!"

"Why?" Cordelia leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. Janice always was a little grating on the nerves.

"Well to help you change your ways of course! It's my job to show you the past—"

Cordelia sat bolt upright for the second time this evening. "Wait a minute! What? Are you- is this- am I like trapped in the Christmas Carol or something!"

"I don't think so," Janice looked confused. "Isn't that a book? How can you be in a book?"

Cordelia sighed and rolled her eyes. "Okay, let's get this over with. What are you here to do?"

"I'm here to show you the past, silly. Come on!" she stood up and held out her hand to Cordelia. Cordelia sighed again and got up to take her hand. There really was no use fighting it she supposed.

Suddenly they were back at her parents' house in Sunnydale. It was one of the Christmases when they had money. She could tell because there were a ton of people in the house and fancy foods abounded. She smiled. Those really were the days, but they didn't stay that way.

"Look! There you are!" Janice pointed out. Cordelia smiled in satisfaction. She looked stunning in a black gown that skimmed her curves all the way to the floor, with a nice little slit up the leg. "You were the belle of the ball at every Christmas party Cordelia."

"When I had money you mean," Cordelia pointed out, just as the room began to change. The people had begun to fade away like ghosts.

"No, actually, I mean always." Janice said with a conviction she had never possessed while alive.

Now they were in a party full of strangers in LA. Cordelia was in the middle of the crowd despite the fact that she was wearing last year's fashions. And she kept attacking the trays of food that passed by her.

"No, I'm actually doing really well right now," she was telling some guy who was doting on her every word. He was joined by some of his friends and Cordelia was soon surrounded by admirers. "I've got a few commercials lined up next week," she bragged. "I told my agent I wasn't interested, but I did owe him a favor so I told him I'd do it just for him." She giggled and they laughed.

"I don't want to listen to any more," Cordelia said turning away, losing the grip of Janice's hand. "It was all lies. I was starving and unemployed and snuck into a Christmas party I'd heard about at a tryout."

"Don't you see?" Janice implored. "It's not about the gifts or the mood we're in, it's about the people we spend it with. It's about getting out and enjoying yourself!"

"Yeah, I get it already," Cordelia sighed.

"It was so good to see you again Cordy," Janice hugged Cordelia and faded away. Cordelia sat down on the couch once again and put her head in her hands. She started to cry. Life had been such a struggle since her parents had lost everything and she had struck out on her own. She really didn't need to remember that right now.

A box of tissue appeared in front of her. She grabbed one and blew her nose. Then started when she noticed a strange man standing beside the couch.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment!"

"It's me, Dennis," he replied gesturing towards himself.

"Dennis! Is that really you?" Cordelia got up from the couch and walked around him, inspecting him up and down.

"Who else would be the ghost of Christmas present?" he smiled softly at her.

"I knew it! I am trapped in some sort of weird Dickens' spell or something, aren't I?" She plopped back down on the couch. "Great. I never paid attention when they taught it in English class."

"Well, it's not that difficult, you know. It's actually a great story. It wasn't even one of Dickens' favorites. It just got … popular. What?"

Cordelia looked at him like he'd grown a third head. "Dennis! You're smart!"

"Well, what did you expect?" He looked hurt.

"That's not what I meant. It's just so weird to see you and hear you talk, when you've been here this whole time."

"Enjoy it while you can," he whispered so softly she almost didn't hear him. Cordelia cleared her throat.

"Yes, well, what have you got for me?"

"Well, this," he indicated the apartment around them, "first of all."

"What?" Cordelia looked around in confusion. Was something going to jump out at her? She didn't see anything unusual.

"There's no one here, Cordy."

"Oh." She leaned back into the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. She was in for another lecture she supposed.

"Not that I mind, mind you!" Dennis sat on the edge of the couch near her. "It gets kind of noisy and crowded in here when you throw your parties, but …" he looked abashed.

"But," Cordelia gently prodded.

"Well, you're not yourself. You aren't happy and you're usually not alone like this. You deserve to be with someone who will make you happy. And I want you to be happy more than anything else." He took her hand and caressed it softly, not looking up at her.

"Dennis, I don't want to go out. And I don't want anyone coming here either. The last few times I've been interested in a guy … it just hasn't turned out well."

"I know. I was there for the last one, remember? I tried to protect you, but it didn't help." He let go of her hand and turned away from her.

"You can't always solve all my problems Dennis," Cordelia put her hand on his shoulder. "But it's nice of you to try."

He turned to smile at her softly. Cordelia smiled back as he began to fade away. She picked up her tea again, now a bit lukewarm, and finished it off.

A cold wind ripped through the apartment and Cordelia closed her eyes in shock as she shivered. When she opened them again, she was no longer in her apartment. Instead she was in a dark room, lit by the glimmers of firelight. And standing in front of her there stood the ugliest creature she had ever seen. It had a bug-like armor and a half circle arching over its head.

"Are you a ghost or a demon?" she asked.

"Well, hi to you too," it said.

"Sorry, perhaps I should wait for the introduction," she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest again.

"My name is Skip," he said. "And—"

"Wait," Cordelia held up a hand. "Don't tell me. You're supposed to show me my future."

"Good guess. Or was that a vision?" he looked at her as if he was studying her.

Cordelia started. "How …"

"How'd I know about that? Well, that's a complicated question. You see the 'powers that be'—"

"Never mind," Cordelia waved her hand in dismissal. "I really don't need to know, Skip," she emphasized the last letter of his name.

"Wow, that's a talent—making someone's name sound like an insult."

"Sorry, I'm just tired. Can we get on with it?"

"Sure, no problem." He snapped his fingers and they were standing back in Cordelia's apartment. Only it wasn't like she'd ever seen it. It was dark and drab. Frankly, it was pretty depressing. Cordelia looked around in disgust.

"Who did this to my apartment?"

"You did." Skip said, pointing to an older version of Cordelia shuffling out of the kitchen carrying a pan of brownies. She looked God awful. She was wearing a mumu and fuzzy slippers. Her hair was pulled up in a bun, of all things, and was streaked with white. And worst of all, she wasn't wearing any makeup.

"Oh my God! What happened to me!"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing! I can't just go from this," Cordelia indicated her present self, "to that" she pointed to her future self, "without something happening!"

"You just quit caring," Skip shrugged and folded his hands in front of him, watching the future version of Cordelia with interest. She was shuffling over to a desk in the corner, piled with papers.

"Oh screw that!" Cordelia shouted at her future self. "What, do I work from home now too!"

"Yep. You don't really leave the apartment any more."

"How do I get groceries and … and stuff?"

"Angel provides for you, it's part of how he pays you."

"I'll kill him. Why didn't he make me leave the apartment?"

"That's an interesting question. You see, Angel … well, he has his hands full."

"With what?"

"I'm so glad you asked." He snapped his fingers again and suddenly they were in what appeared to be a hotel lobby.

"Angel runs a hotel now!" Cordelia asked in confusion.

"No," Skip laughed. "This is the new headquarters for his business." At that moment, Wesley walked around the counter reading a book as he walked. But he was followed by a young black man and what appeared to be his gang.

"Who are the hoodlums? Is Angel working for the mafia now?" Cordelia asked.

"No. Why do you assume that these young people are hoodlums? Or that they're connected with the mafia?"

"Well, just look at them? The bad fashion sense yet coordinating color has to be a sure sign of some sort of gang."

"Okay, you've got me there. They are a gang, but they're not part of the mafia. They protect their homes in a less than glamorous neighborhood from vampires."

"Then what are they doing here at Angel's place?"

"Without you here to be the softer touch, Angel and Wesley decided they needed more muscle to back them up. Look at Wesley! He's not in his prime any more."

Cordelia noticed how weathered Wesley looked. His hair was peppered with gray and his face had a few more scars on it than she remembered. Then she noticed how rough the others looked. Some were even missing a few limbs.

"What happened to them?" Cordelia asked quietly.

"They didn't have you to give them step by step directions about your visions. You only call them in now."

Just then, Angel crept into the room. He looked worn, but physically unchanged. He didn't say a word to anyone. He avoided everyone around him and skirted the group like a guilty dog. He just walked outside and got into the driver's seat of his car, waiting to take them where they needed to go.

"What's wrong with him? Why isn't he talking to anyone?" Cordelia asked as she watched him drive away after the others had joined him.

"He hasn't talked to anyone since Buffy died. You got a vision that could have saved her life, but you wouldn't come out of your apartment. They could only follow through on half of the information you gave them as a result."

"Oh my God. Okay, okay, I get the point. I don't want the world to end up like this. Take me back Skip." She turned around and Skip was nowhere to be seen. She was alone in this strange hotel lobby. "No!" She yelled in terror. She turned around again quickly and suddenly the lobby of the hotel began to spin. She closed her eyes and fell forward. When she opened her eyes, she found herself on the floor in front of her couch in her apartment, her legs tangled in the blanket that had been covering her.

"Oh my God! It was only a dream. What a nightmare!" she exclaimed, but immediately stiffened as she saw a cup of tea floating from the kitchen to the coffee table by her side. "Oh hell no!" she yelled and jumped up. "I'm sorry Dennis, but I don't need any tea tonight. I'm going out." She grabbed her coat and dashed out the door of her apartment. There was no way she was going to turn into a lonely old hag and watch the others in her life fall apart. She might not want to get hurt again, but she had better things to do with her life.

Before she knew it, she was at Angel's office. She let herself in and walked over to his office. He was sitting alone in the dark and brooding as per usual. She flipped the light switch by the door and he winced.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"What, that it's Christmas and you're alone in the dark like it's any other night of the year? Yes, I mind."

"Humph," he grunted.

"Don't you 'humph' me, Mister. Get up, get your wallet and let's go get Wesley. I bet he's alone too. We're celebrating the holiday if it kills us."

"Why is it always my money that has to entertain us?" Angel complained.

Cordelia cut him off by walking over to him and dragging him out of his chair. "Because you have money Angel. Come on. Be a big boy and if you're good, there might even be a present in it for you."

"Really?" he asked eagerly, all reluctance gone. "But … wait. If I pay for it, it's not really a present, is it?"

Cordy rolled her eyes and shoved him out of the office, turning off the lights as she went. Men never changed. She smiled behind his back as he walked away from her. It wasn't about gifts or the mood you were in, it was about the people you spent it with? She laughed. Yeah right. It was totally about the presents.

Disclaimer: these characters are not of my own design, but are the creation of the wonderful genius that is Joss Wheadon.