Title: Mythical Creatures

By: Passion4Spike

Chapter 3: Size Matters

Note:

Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying this little story (perhaps again, if you read it as a single chapter in the 2020 EC challenge). That Christmas Miracle might be creeping closer, sneaking up on Buffy.

Thanks always to Holi117 and Paganbaby - two wonderful friends and awesome writers - who beta'd this for me - before I fiddled. All mistakes are mine.

The next night, Buffy came home from patrol to find a giant Sequoia attacking her house. The huge tree was halfway in her door and clearly trying to get the rest of the way in, but having little luck. It jerked and jolted and shimmied back and forth, its lower branches too wide and stiff to force past the measly three-foot clearance of their front door.

"Hey!" Buffy demanded, hurrying up the walk. "What the hell is going on!?"

"Slayer?"

Buffy pushed past the prickly needles on the lower half of the tree to mount the front porch stairs, but had to stop well short of the blocked door. "Spike?!"

"What're you doing here?" Spike demanded from inside.

"I live here!" Buffy reminded him. "What are you doing here? With a … a… What the hell is this?"

"It's a sodding Christmas tree, innit?" he retorted from inside, and the tree shook again, spilling needles all over the porch, but it didn't make any more progress into the house.

"No! No, it's not! It's a … a … giant, green, needle-y demon … it's a… a Chlorofiend," she insisted.

"Don't be sodding daft," Spike groaned, giving the tree another tug.

"Stop that!" Buffy screamed through clogged door.

She heard Spike sigh heavily and the distinctive sound of his lighter flicking open. "Hey! No smoking in there!" Another put-upon sigh and the lighter flicked closed. "What are you doing? Why are you here? And why are you trying to get a redwood into my house?" she demanded again.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered.

"Spike, I swear to God I'll..." Buffy threatened.

"Yeah, yeah, stake me good and proper," he finished for her. She could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"So, you know the tune – now make with the singing."

There was a defeated sigh from the other side of the tree before he said, "Yer mom wanted a proper Christmas for you and the nibblet … with a tree and what-all. Said I'd get it for her. Was supposed t' be a surprise. You were supposed to be doing your Slayer-duty for another sodding hour!"

"I hate to tell you this, but it would take more than another hour for you to get this in the house! What did you do, buy the biggest one on the lot?"

"Well … yeah," Spike admitted, as if 'duh'! "Bigger's always better, innit?"

"You're clearly confusing Christmas trees with penises!" Buffy snarked, only realizing what she said after it was off her tongue. Her eyes went wide, and she clamped a hand over her gaping mouth.

"Am I, then?" Buffy could hear the leer in his voice. "Could put that to the test, if you'd like. Guarantee I've got white bread beat … and know Angel's a bit lacking in that department."

"Shut up!" Buffy squeaked, her face flushing with heat.

"You brought it up," he pointed out. "Quite far up, in point of fact."

"Well now I'm putting it down! And you will too if you know what's good for you," she insisted.

Spike sniggered. "Never really got the hang o' that, if I'm honest – the 'knowing what's good for me' bit."

"Old dog, meet new tricks," Buffy growled through the greenery-filled door. "Now, shut up and help me get this out," she ordered, moving back down the stairs to get hold of the trunk of the tree.

"Maybe a little lube would help. Got any Astroglide under the bed? Or are you a KY girl?" he wondered. "Go in for the flavors or …"

"I swear to God, Spike!" she snarled, yanking on the base of the tree. It shuddered a moment, then moved a little. She pulled harder, imagining she was pulling Spike's head off – the one on his shoulders! Not the other one! She was not thinking about the other one at all! – and the huge tree came free. Buffy tumbled backwards off the steps, rolled a few feet on the walkway, and came to rest buried under the enormous fir. She was just pushing herself out from the tangle of massive branches when Spike sauntered up to her, his thumbs hooked over his belt buckle, smirking.

"Guess ya didn't need the lube after all. Good t' know au naturel works for you."

Buffy shot him a dirty look and began brushing the prickly needles off her clothes. Spike reached out and plucked one out of her hair. When she didn't flinch back, he combed his fingers through her long, soft locks under the pretense of dislodging more. Her hair was even softer and silkier beneath his hand than he remembered from their short 'engagement'. Bloody glorious, like sunshine and summer breezes.

"What're you doing?" Buffy wondered, jerking her head away from him as she began running her own fingers through it.

Spike stiffened and dropped his hand. "Helping," he replied petulantly.

"I think you've helped enough," Buffy muttered, gathering her hair into a ponytail, and securing it by a hair band she'd had around her wrist. She surveyed the tree Spike had selected with a critical eye. "Spike, this tree is as tall as that slimy slug demon from last summer!"

Spike did his own assessment and nodded. "Yeah, so?"

"Soooo…" Buffy drawled. "Our ceilings are not as tall as a slug demon! How in the world did you think this would ever fit?"

Spike frowned, then shrugged. "Didn't think about it … just wanted the best."

"The biggest isn't always the best."

Spike arched a brow at her, a smirk quirking his lips.

"Shut up," she ordered, another flush rising up her neck to pinken her face adorably. "What are we supposed to do with this?"

Spike considered. "Could set it up in the garden, I reckon."

"We could only decorate half of it! I don't think I could reach the top if I stood on your shoulders," Buffy pointed out.

Spike pursed his lips, thinking again.

He had really nice lips, Buffy noticed. Soft and full, and they really were great at kissing. He'd kissed her all day during their magical engagement, and each one was just as swoon-worthy as the last. And she'd perched on his lap enough to know he was right about sizes … if she were that shallow to care. Which she absolutely wasn't. Nope. No caring! Not at all … honest!

"Could cut it off," he suggested next, jolting Buffy from her thoughts.

"Cut it off?" Buffy squeaked, her eyes darting down to where his fingers framed his fly, then back up to his face.

"The tree. What the bloody hell did ya think I was talking about?"

"I knew that – tree … cut it off … totally knew that."

Spike made an adjustment in his pants, drawing Buffy's eye again. "Or could do something else ... test out some sizes …" he suggested cheekily.

Buffy ground her teeth and quickly shifted her gaze away. "So … need a saw. I think Xander left some tools in the basement. I'll go see what we have," she volunteered, bolting for the now-clear front door.

Spike smirked after her, enjoying the view. When she'd disappeared into the house he sighed and looked at the tree. He'd ruined the whole sodding surprise. He never even considered they'd have trees that wouldn't fit in the house – how daft was that? Should go back to the lot and break that berk's neck ... or, well, give him a stern tongue lashing, at any rate. Bloody chip! Unscrupulous, was what it was, selling rubbish like this to unsuspecting vampires. He sighed in resignation. Well, maybe they could get it set up so it could be a surprise for the nibblet, at least. But he'd really hoped to surprise Buffy, too. He hoped he didn't bugger up the rest of things Joyce had asked him to do.

Spike looked up as Buffy returned, setting three items down on the ground between them. He furrowed his brow, looking at the tools. "That's a drill," he pointed out, nudging one of the things with the toe of his boot.

"Oh."

"And that's a grinder," he continued, moving his foot to the next thing.

"Oh."

"And that's a …" Spike tilted his head and studied the third item. "Dunno what that is."

"Then it might be a saw," Buffy said hopefully.

"It's not a sodding saw!" Spike asserted, looking back up at her. "You do know what a saw is, don'cha, Slayer? Is like a sword, only with teeth."

"I know what a saw is! I just … I didn't see one."

Spike sighed and trudged toward the house. "Least I got a tree, not a sodding trumpet! Doing better than you by half."

Buffy gathered up the tools and hurried after him. "Yeah, well, I don't think they sell trumpets at the Christmas tree lot, so you had an unfair advantage. Anyway, your tree doesn't fit, so points off for that!"

"Just a minor detail," Spike claimed as he opened the door to the basement and started down. "If you'd brought a sodding saw, we'd have it in the house by now, wouldn't we?"

"If you'd gotten the right size in the first place—"

"I got the best one!"

"You got the biggest one!" Buffy countered.

"Which is the sodding best!"

"Argh! You are so annoying!" the Slayer exclaimed, putting the tools back where she'd found them as Spike looked around for a saw.

"Here!" he announced, showing Buffy.

"That's not a saw – it's too …" She held her hands a few inches apart, her fingers rounded, indicating the basic compact, squarish shape of what Spike held. "And there are no teeth!"

"It's a circular saw," he explained, pulling back the safety cover and showing the sawblade to her.

She frowned. "Well, that's no fair, hiding in a shell being all turtle-y."

"Get me a sodding battery and let's go. Want to get it in 'fore the nibblet gets here, anyway."

Several minutes later, nothing had been cut off the tree. "Are you sure you know how to work that?" Buffy asked as she supervised, arms folded, while Spike tried to get the saw to, well, saw.

"Are you sure the bloody battery was charged?"

"Yes. Are you sure the battery is in right?" she wondered.

"Yessss," he hissed as he pulled the trigger for the hundredth time and for the hundredth time nothing happened. "This is bollocks. Bloody carpenter-boy leavin' rubbish tools in yer basement."

"You are so useless! Let me see it!" Buffy ordered, pulling it from his hands. She squeezed the trigger, then fiddled with the battery and the safety cover, pulled the trigger again, turned it this way, then that, shook it hard enough to be arrested if it had been a toddler, and banged on it with her fist. Nothing happened.

"You were sayin'?" Spike taunted, watching her get more and more frustrated when nothing worked.

"Well, I never said I could work it in the first place!" she defended, shoving it back into his hands. "Can't you just, you know …" She waved a hand at her face, specifically her mouth. "Get all fangy and gnaw it off or something?"

"Have you gone mental?" Spike barked. "I'm not a sodding beaver, am I? Gnaw on necks … nice, warm, soft necks!"

"Well, you used to. Maybe it's time to expand your horizons," Buffy countered.

"Into the burgeoning and lucrative field of vampire lumberjack?" he scoffed derisively.

"Hi guys, whatcha doing?" Dawn asked as she walked up behind them.

Buffy and Spike both jumped and whirled around to face her. They automatically stepped together, shoulder to shoulder, trying to hide the tree. "Nothing … why are you home so early?" Buffy demanded.

Dawn raised her brows, looked at the tree, which was impossible to hide, then back at the two blondes. "It's nine – you said to be home by eight."

"You're late!" Buffy announced. "Go to your room and don't come out – you're grounded!"

"What? Only Mom can ground me!" Dawn squeaked indignantly. "What's going on with the Paul Bunyan tree?"

Buffy and Spike both scowled, their eyes meeting in defeat. There were twin sighs as they stepped apart and revealed the tree, as if they had actually been hiding it. "Supposed t' be a surprise…" Spike admitted, ducking his head and running his free hand along the back of his neck abashedly.

"He bought us a tree… I think. You did buy it, right?" Buffy wondered suspiciously.

"I bought it! Whaddya think I am? A sodding tree napper now?"

Buffy arched a brow at him, folding her arms over her chest, silently communicating that she wouldn't put it past him. He rolled his eyes. "I bought the sodding thing. None too cheap, either – considering it's dead and you lot'll chuck it out in a fortnight."

"It won't fit in the house," Buffy explained, looking back at Dawn.

"Got the best one."

"Got the biggest one," Buffy corrected.

"Biggest is always the best," Dawn interjected sagely, lifting her chin and flipping her long hair back over one shoulder. "Anya says that all the time. Size definitely matters."

Spike bounced up on his toes and smirked. "Told ya."

Buffy huffed out a breath. "We need to find someone else for you to hang around with, Dawn," she decided, turning back to look at the tree. "Anyway, we're trying to cut some off it, but can't get the saw to work."

Dawn stepped up, looked at the saw and then the tree. "Lemme see," she requested, reaching for it.

Spike handed it to her.

"It's bloody rubbish, won't—"

Dawn pulled the trigger and the blade spun to life with a smooth whirring sound. "You were saying?" she asked, quirking a brow at Spike as she let off the power.

He scowled. "What the sodding hell…"

"Child-proof … you have to push the safety switch at the same time," she explained, showing him her thumb on the switch. "But this is totally the wrong saw for this. I think a reciprocating saw with a wood blade would be safer and work better."

Buffy and Spike just stared at her, gobsmacked.

The girl shrugged. "I've been hanging out with Xander a lot, too. He always says you need to have the right tool for the job," she explained before heading for the house.

"And I suspect that is not us," Spike grumbled.

"Are we just stupid, or what?" Buffy asked as they waited.

"Utter twats."

End Note:

Thank you again for reading! I can't tell you how much it means to me!

PS: Did you catch the Dresden Files reference?

More soon!