Santana let herself into Angel's apartment, unannounced, as was habitual by now. The older vampire was reading a dusty book on the second hand couch he'd moved into the living room space. Although he was perpetually frozen in his early twenties, he had a kind of stately wisdom that earned him some reverence, even from Santana, who was so rarely impressed.

"What are you reading?" she asked half-heartedly, slamming the apartment door behind her.

"Dickens," he replied, and tossed the book aside with little care. He'd had centuries to read his favorite novels, but socializing was still a novelty.

"Quinn reads that stuff, too," said Santana, hopping up and crouching on his arm chair, absentmindedly picking at the chipped red nail polish on her fingernail.

Angel cocked his head to the side and looked at her with curiosity, wondering how she could fit in so fluidly with another human being. Santana had had to give up her girlfriend and her high school because she walked with the night, but her relationship with Quinn Fabray had only grown into unspoken sisterhood.

"What's up?" Angel asked casually.

Santana sighed. "Nothing," she said dramatically.

"Doesn't sound like nothing," Angel prodded, leaning forward on the couch, "Are Quinn and Sofia okay?"

"Yeah, they're fine."

"Brittany?"

Santana sheepishly bit her lip. "I think I made a mistake."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't be Brittany's friend. Everyone knows it. Just because we want to make it work doesn't mean we can," Santana rambled in frustration, "How are we ever supposed to be normal friends doing normal things, when... It's just not possible. She wants me to see a movie today. Something about the magic of Christmas."

"It's Christmastime again?"

Santana rolled her dark eyes. "You need to get a place with windows, hermit. This town is caked in snow and gaudy red lightbulbs."

"Why can't you see a movie with Brittany? It's normal and not to mention, impersonal. All you have to do is sit back and watch."

"Yeah, in a big dark room with her sitting inches away from me. I can't handle that."

"I think you'll do just fine with a little willpower."

"You don't get it," Santana shook her head, "When it comes to Brittany, I have no willpower. It's like if I'm Scooby Doo and Brittany is a Scooby Snack. If I get one taste, I'm gonna do anything for more."

Angel grimaced at the analogy. "Scooby Doo... The cartoon dog?"

Santana glared at him. "I told you you wouldn't get it."

"Santana," Angel sighed paternally, "I know you're afraid to lose control again, but going to the movies with Brittany isn't going to be the end of the world."

"You don't know that. Anything can start the apocalypse around here."

"It's no good tearing yourself apart, trying to keep yourself away from the one you love."

"No good? Aren't we trying to avoid true happiness here, or am I mistaking you for another vampire with a soul?"

Angel smirked slightly. "In all my two and a half centuries, I have not reached true happiness. I don't think you need to be as cautious as you think."

Santana frowned and wrinkled her brow thoughtfully. "Have you ever been in love?"

Angel's smile disappeared. "No," he replied reluctantly, "I can't say I have."

xxx

Buffy pulled her knit cap tighter as she walked to Rovello Drive in the darkening evening. The snow was falling hard in Lima this winter, and Buffy used it as an excuse to hit every department store's winter-wear sale.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Rachel huffed beside her as they lazily walked along the sidewalk.

"Rachel, please. I've known these people longer than you and I think I know the dynamics that would work in their relationships," Tina shrugged simply.

"Maybe you've become so comfortable with their dynamics that you aren't willing to try something more risky and interesting."

"I'm more than willing to be risky and interesting! What I'm not interested in is a relationship that will inevitably fail. Buffy?"

Buffy shivered in her parka. "Huh?"

"Who would Allison be better off with? Scott or Jackson?" asked Tina.

Buffy looked blankly at each of her friends. "Are these people we know?"

Tina rolled her eyes. "Teen Wolf."

"Oh, right... I don't know. I haven't been watching a lot of TV lately."

"You seem distracted," Rachel noted.

"I was just-"

"Thinking?" asked Tina.

Buffy smirked and shook her head. "Not really. Just having happy non-thoughts. I like it when things are quiet around here."

"True," Rachel smiled, and buried her hands in the pockets of her thick white peacoat, "With Spike and Drusilla gone things have been really slow on the Hellmouth and oh my gosh I'm completely jinxing it now, aren't I?"

"We'll let you off with a warning," smirked Buffy as they approached her quiet suburban house.

"Are we sure there are no more Tarakan assassins coming after you?" asked Tina.

"Santana's sources say the contract is off," said Buffy, removing her keys from her pocket as the three girls stepped onto the classically decorated porch.

She stuck her house key into the lock on the door only for it to swing open, the wreath hung on it swaying slightly. Buffy frowns frowned and looks looked up, perturbed, into the seemingly welcoming scene of her dark hallway. She clenched her jaw, her instincts telling her that something was off.

"Wait here," she said sternly to her friends, and trekked into her home, her shoulders rigid and her eyes narrowed.

She slid her stake down her sleeve, ready to whip out at any moment. Suddenly, her head jerked to the direction of the kitchen as she heard her mother's voice calling, "No!"

Buffy pushed the door to the kitchen open fiercely, tensely reviewing the scene in front of her. Her brow wrinkled in confusion as she saw her mother standing near the island counter, her hair curled and her makeup done. A man was with her.. Buffy's eyes only left his to briefly glance at a bottle of wine and a wine glass, half full on the counter.

"Mom?" Buffy prodded, glancing at her mom before looking back at the man.

He looked harmless enough, although he was most definitely a fashion crime victim. Denim jeans, denim jacket and a forest green polo that perfectly matched his green baseball hat that read 'Emerald Dreams'. His hair was the main offender. A ginger mullet, hidden under his cap, and matching the orange fur that bearded his face.

"I thought I heard..." Buffy trailed off.

"I broke a wine glass," said Joyce, blushing as she became flustered, "You're home early."

The man smiled at her, leaning against the island counter. His nonchalance only made Buffy more uncomfortable.

"Hey," he said, tipping his hat at her.

"Hi," Buffy said flatly, looking him up and down.

"Oh, uh, this is my daughter, Buffy," said Joyce, "Buffy... This is Darren."

Buffy grimaced as Rachel and Tina slowly followed in.

"Girls, nice to see you," said Joyce, a little relieved by their interruption, "Darren, these are Buffy's friends, Rachel and Tina. Girls, this is Darren."

Darren smirked charmingly. "Pleasure."

Not five minutes later, Darren was frying mini-pizzas in a pan over the stove that Buffy and her mother used so rarely. Rachel and Tina were on his either side, watching his recipe unfold as Joyce swept up the broken wineglass and dumped it in the trash. Buffy leaned into her mother and frowning, said, "So I see this is why we've been splashing out on Astroturf."

Joyce grimaced. "I was just waiting for the right time to introduce you. He's a good guy."

Buffy folded arms and looked around at her friends schmoozing with Darren. Rachel watched with intense interest as Darren sprinkled salt into his frying pan.

"Fried vegan pizzas," she marvelled, "My dads are always trying to make new vegan dishes for me, but vegan pizza is something they've always struggled to master."

Darren smirked. "My uncle owned a pizza place. Only place I knew that made vegan pizzas actually taste good. The trick is to fry it in herbs and olive oil after you bake it."

"You're a culinary genius," Rachel beamed.

Darren looked up and smirked, catching Buffy's eye. "Hungry?" he asked her.

"No, thanks," she replied, leaning against the refridgerator.

Darren dolled up some pizzas for Rachel and Tina and sauntered over to Buffy. "I want to apologize," he said, scratching the orange scruff on his face, "I didn't want us to meet like this. I really do like your mom. I know you're the most important thing to her, and darn, that makes you pretty important to me, too."

Joyce smiled lovingly over Buffy's shoulder. "I really want you to be okay with this, Buffy."

"We really want you to be okay with this," smiled Darren, wrinkled crinkling around his eyes.

Buffy clenched her jaw. "I'm okay?"

"You are?"

"I am."

xxx

Rachel tightened her grip on her backpack and weaved through her fellow classmates, trying to make her way to class at the south side of school. She seemed to shrink into herself, hyper aware that everyone was looking at her differently. People had always looked at her differently. When she started high school, people looked at her with mockery and disdain and if she was lucky, intrigue. When she started dating Finn, people had looked at her with confusion and jealousy and even hatred. Now?

Now that Finn had more or less publicly humiliated her and broken her heart, people looked at her with more condescending pity than she could take. Every sarcastic smirk and weary shake of the head said, "We knew it wouldn't last. You should have known." They were right. She should have known. She hated herself for thinking that she could have lived her whole life being adored by a handsome quarterback. She couldn't wait for Winter winter break to start soon so she could avoid the patronizing stares.

Just as she was about to escape the unfriendliness of the school hallway and get to her classroom, a large figure sidestepped her.

"Finn!" Rachel gasped, her face flushing red.

He stood there, a slight smile on his face while he tried to look apologetically guilty, his hands behind his back.

"Hey," he said, his voice respectfully low.

Rachel breathed through her nose and tried not to look at him. What did he want? To taunt her with the knowledge that he'd rather cheat on her with her worst enemy than wait for her to be ready? To beg for her back? Please, I dare you, she thought to herself. Show these people that it's you who doesn't deserve me. For the most part, she was one who wanted to be reassured that it was him that didn't deserve her. She was never so sure.

After all, Finn had been more than a boyfriend. He'd been the thing that made her feel like she was someone more than a hopeless, annoying, big-nosed loud-mouth. He'd made her feel cool.

"What do you want?" she asked, meaning to sound icy, but just sounding vulnerable.

"I want to give you something," Finn said, grinning as he showed her the small square box in his large hand.

"What?" Rachel asked, staring at the gift wrapped in Christmas paper, "Why?"

"I bought in online, for Christmas. Before... You know."

Rachel grimaced, feeling awkward. "Well, that was before. I don't want it now."

Finn sighed, still holding out his hand. "Come on, Rachel. I can't give it to anyone else. It belongs to you."

Rachel bit her bottom lip and took the box from his hand, removing the lid to see a thin gold chain with a small gold star attached to it. She looked away from it, hoping he wouldn't see tears coming to her eyes, and shoved the box back into his hand.

"Thank you, Finn," she said quietly, "It was truly a lovely gesture. But I think you should return it."

"What?" Finn wrinkled his brow.

"It would be wrong of me to except a gift from you. I would be leading you on."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're never getting back together, Finn. Please accept that."

Finn bristled. "...Rachel, Christmas is a time for forgiveness."

"I'm Jewish."

"Whatever, I mean... Can we just talk?"

"We've already talked, Finn. I can't talk to you anymore, it hurts too much..."

"Please, just go to The Lima Bean with me after school."

"No, Finn. I'm busy. Now that you quit glee club, we have to find a twelfth member-"

"Please stop making excuses."

"It's not an excuse!" Rachel stopped talking as someone suddenly slid their arm gently around hers, tugging her ever so slightly away. She looked to her right and was astonished to see that Quinn was smiling blithely, wrapping her arm around Rachel's.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, deceptively sweet, "But Rachel, I really need to go over the choreography for the South Lima Park Winter Show and you're the only one who has it down."

Rachel opened and closed her mouth, wordlessly for a few moments before uttering. "Y-Yes. Sure. Let's go to the choir room."

With Finn glaring after them, Quinn and Rachel sauntered down the hallway and around the corner, out of sight, arm in arm.

"Thank you," Rachel breathed when Finn could no longer see them.

xxx

Blanketed by the darkness, Buffy slammed the night's first vampire into a picnic table, breaking it into shards under his weight and force. Buffy picked up a slab of wood as the vampire struggled to get up, and instead of staking him, she repeatedly beat him over the head with it.

Sam winced, sitting on top of an almost ancient marble gravestone. This was one of the first times that he'd been allowed to watch his girlfriend patrol, but he was pretty sure she wasn't normally so violent about it.

"Buffy, I think he's..." Sam winced again as Buffy rammed the vamp in her ribs with her elbow, "Staking time, right?"

Buffy raised her stake high in the air and stake the vampire with so much force that she almost fell through his ashes. She whirled around to Sam, her shoulder length hair bouncing over her shoulder.

"Any others?" she asked fervently, looking around.

"For their sakes, I hope not," Sam smirked.

Buffy frowned. "I kill vampires. That's my job."

"Right, but, you don't usually beat them to a bloody pulp beforehand... Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Buffy said through gritted teeth, "I just need another vamp to slay. Vampires are creeps!"

"I'm assuming that's why you slay them."

"People are perfectly happy and getting along and then vampires come in and kill people and take over your house and make stupid little vegan pizzas and everyone is like, 'ooh, wow'..."

"Buffy, this subtext is really starting to become... text. I'm assuming this is about Darren."

Buffy frowned and folded her arms. "I just don't get why everyone likes him so much. So, he's a great cook. What does that tell you about him as a person? I mean, all I see so far is someone with an okay job, whose nice and polite and who really likes my mom."

"He sounds awful."

"He's just a little too clean."

"I think we're maybe getting into Sigmund Freud territory. Call Rachel, she'll tell you the exact same thing. In detail. Seperation anxiety, the mother figure taken away, conflict with the father figure-"

"He is not my father figure!"

Sam raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry."

"No, it's just... I have a lot going on in my life and I don't need some new guy showing up."

"Yeah. But maybe your mom does."

Buffy winced sheepishly. "Fine, if you're gonna use wisdom..."

"Loneliness is scary."

"And what would you know? Your parents are happily married."

Sam shrugged. "And I could never imagine my mom with someone other than my dad. So I know it's gotta be scary for you. But it's gotta be scary for your mom, too."

Buffy folded her arms. "Fine. My mom needs a guy. Why does it have to be Darren?"

"You have someone else in mind?"

"...Dad," Buffy pouted, "Fine. Reality check. I'll give Darren a chance."

xxx

Santana brushed the wet snow out of her hair as she walked into South Lima Movie Theatre, the smell of buttery popcorn overwhelming her senses and making her feel slightly nauseous. Although, to be fair, she would have been nauseous anyways.

She didn't understand how she was supposed to sit there watching something called "The Christmas Wish", pretending to be Brittany's friend. There was so much left unsaid that Santana could never just erase from her memory. She and Brittany had never been official, but they'd also never been platonic. She's my best friend, thought Santana, Or she was.

Santana stood in the lobby and shivered, keeping a watchful eye on the entrance until she saw Brittany approaching, looking adorable in a pink knit cap. She smiled brightly when she saw Santana, and Santana's stomach churned. She always looked so innocent, so childish. It was what Santana loved about her but it also made her angry. Everyone wanted to take care of Brittany. Protect her. Make the hard decisions for her. Brittany had no idea what it felt like to really suffer. Not like Santana had suffered. Not like Quinn. Or Angel. Or the slayer.

"Hi," Santana smiled wearily.

"Hi," Brittany smiled widely and gripped Santana in a hug, "I'm so glad you came."

"Of course I did," said Santana. Of course I did, thought Santana, I'd go anywhere you asked me to. You know that.

"This is gonna be great," Brittany smiled.

"Yeah," said Santana, trying to make enthusiasm overshadow her anxiety, "Just the two of us."

"The three of us," Brittany grinned.

"Huh?"

Brittany turned to her side and Santana looked over her shoulder to see Artie Abrams wheeling over with a puffy parka draped over his round shoulders.

"Artie," Santana grimaced, "Great."

xxx

"Where did you learn to play guitar, Sam?"

"I taught myself when I was ten."

Buffy held her golf club close to her chest, like a shield, as she watched her mother attempt to get her ball into a big, wooden, rotating cuckoo clock. Out of the corner of her eye, she kept tabs on her boyfriend as he shamelessly schmoozed with Darren. She mused that maybe it'd be easier to get along with her mom's new boyfriend if everyone didn't like him so damn much.

"No way, man? That's real talent," grinned Darren, "You should jam with my band sometime."

"You have a band?" Sam asked, his eyes wide.

"Yeah, when I'm not putting in the hours at Emerald Dreams, I'm rockin' with my Journey tribute band."

Sam looked at Darren with awe and Buffy rolled her eyes. She wished she and Sam had never been invited to this weird, stupid, mini golf double date with her mom. Mini golfing in Winter winter was not fun under any circumstances. Shivering in the cold while she waited for her turn and watched Darren try to teach her mother how to swing. No thanks. She jumped slightly as Darren put his rough hand down on her shoulder.

"You know how to pick 'em, Buffy," he smiled, "Sam is a keeper."

Sam beamed, gripping his golf club.

"Yeah," said Buffy, stiffly trying to smile.

"You must spend every second with this charmer," said Darren, and slung his arm over Sam's shoulders.

"I guess," Buffy shrugged.

"You guess?"

"Well, Buffy likes to focus on her... studies," Sam said unconvincingly.

"Well, that's great," smiled Darren, "That must mean your grades will pick up soon."

Buffy frowned sternly. "My grades? How do you know about my grades?"

Joyce turned to them, dragging her golf club along with her.

"I told him," she said innocently, "He wants to know all about you. It's a good thing."

Buffy frowned as their group approached a crudely built wooden castle.

"Your turn, Buff," said Sam.

Buffy walked to the tee and gripped her club, giving it a swing with little effort. Even without exerting much of her strength, the ball swung wild, over the castle and into the snow-capped bushes in the turf, out of sight.

"Bad luck, little lady," smirked Darren, putting his arms on his hands.

"We won't count it," Joyce waved flippantly.

"We won't?" asked Darren.

"Well... It's just mini golf."

"Sure, but rules are rules. I don't mean to overstep my bounds. I just think there's a right and wrong, is all."

Joyce looked shyly at her daughter. "He has a point..."

Buffy glanced sternly between Darren and her mother. "Yeah. Whatever. I'll go hit it from the rough."

Buffy stalked away and disappeared behind the castle, out of sight of the others as she searched for her small yellow ball among the frozen bushes. She bent her knees and peered through the frail shrubbery, navigating around the rough when she bumped into someone tall.

"Ooh, sorry-... Finn," she blinked up at her bulky classmate.

"Buffy. Hey," he said, looking down at her, "What are you doing?"

"Looking for my golf ball," she replied.

"Me, too," he nodded, "Want help?"

Buffy awkwardly bit her lip. "I, um..."

"Right. No, I get it. You're not supposed to be talking to me. Don't worry, I just got dragged along on a stupid family thing. I'll leave soon."

Buffy ducked her head down sheepishly, staring at her shoes. "Me, too," she said, looking up at the boy, "Stupid family thing. My mom has a new boyfriend, so..."

"Oh. Yeah... I saw Darren walk in with you guys."

"You know Darren?" Buffy raised an eyebrow, half expecting Finn to be a big hero-worshipping fan of Darren's Journey tribute band or something stupid.

"Yeah," Finn frowned, "He used to date my mom."

Buffy widened her eyes and stared up at Finn. "He did?!"

"Yeah. So, I guess I kind of know what you're going through, I guess."

"You didn't like him?"

Finn looked around as if Darren would be watching. "Not much. At first he was just..."

"Annoying?"

"Yeah. Everyone liked him so freaking much. Then he got pretty controlling."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he'd start to get super strict about my grades and who I hung out with. He'd start getting rid of picture of my dad. And pictures of me."

Buffy bristled. "Did your mom break up with him?"

"No," Finn said bitterly, "All she did was defend him. I've never seen her so obsessed with a guy, you know?"

"Yeah," Buffy frowned, "I know. So what happened, if your mom didn't dump him?"

"He dumped her. He left her for some other chick who didn't have a kid. My mom was pretty upset for a while. Really upset. But she got over it."

"And what happened to the girl he left her for?"

Finn wrinkled his brow. "I don't know..."

Buffy leaned down, spotting her golf ball and picking it up. "Alright... Thanks, Finn."

"No problem," he said, plucking the ball from her hand and walking over to the turf, dropping it into the hole, "Good game."

Buffy smiled gratefully as Finn walked away. "Hey, look at that," she smiled to herself, looking down at her golf ball, "Hole in two."

"I beg to differ."

Buffy turned around, her eyes wide with surprise as Darren neared her, his green Emerald Dreams cap fit tightly over his ginger mullet.

"So fine my score, or whatever," Buffy sulked.

"I think you're missing the point, little lady," he frowned, his hands on his hips, "There is right and there is wrong."

Buffy frowned as Darren started tapping his golf club against his leather shoe. "It's just a game."

"Right," Darren smirked, "Just a game. Bend the rules. Well, I'm not wired that way and I don't stand for that kind of tomfoolery in my house."

Buffy grimaced. "Good thing this isn't your house."

"Don't make me slap that smart ass mouth of yours."

Buffy's mouth dropped open at Darren's sudden aggression, when Sam and her mother appeared from around the castle, oblivious smiles on their faces.

"What's taking you two so long?" grinned Joyce.

"Just foolin' around," smiled Darren, turning to them, "What do you say we eat? I made cookies."

"Ooh, chocolate chip?" asked Sam.

"You bet."

xxx

Buffy stomped down the stairs, barefoot and her hair in a disastrously messy ponytail, a vast contrast to her mother, who was beaming like a 50s sitcom housewife. She swept across the kitchen, her lips tinted a girlish pink as she straightened a jug of orange juice and plate of cinnamon buns.

"Good morning, sunshine," Joyce smiled too widely.

"Hi," Buffy said flatly, leaning against the island counter, still in a pair of girl's boxers and a tank top.

"Don't these sticky buns smell good?"

Buffy plucked up a cinnamon bun and tore off a piece, smell the sweet, buttery scent.

"Darren made them."

Buffy grimaced and set the bun back down without taking a bite.

"What?" Joyce sighed, irritated.

"I'd just like to eat something that Darren didn't make."

"What kind of attitude is that?"

"Look, I know you think Darren is great and everything-"

"He's gone out of his way to be nice to you and you couldn't say two words to him yesterday. I don't expect you to love him like I do, but you can at least treat him with some decency."

Joyce pick up a cinnamon bun and tore it into small pieces with nimble, determined hands, eating them quickly with a stern, angered expression on her face. Buffy just stared at her mom, her brow furrowed.

"You... love him?"

Joyce stopped mid-chew and looked at Buffy with a little bit of surprise. "I... That just kind of slipped out. Buffy, it's not like men beat down the door when you're a-"

"Single parent?"

"I would never have anything to do with someone who didn't care about you. Darren cares about you. Why can't you see that?"

Buffy grimaced. "He dated Finn's mom!"

Joyce looked vaguely surprised, before shaking her head with amusement. "I'm not going to pretend Darren didn't have a life before he met me. Lima is a small town."

"He threatened me."

Buffy was surprised that Joyce just smiled. "Now you're grasping at straws, Buffy. Darren would never do that."

"Yes, he did. He said he was going to slap me."

"No, he did not. He told me what happened. He caught you cheating at mini golf, didn't he?"

"Oh my God, I kicked my ball in, throw me in jail!"

"He didn't say anything about it in front of Sam, did he?"

Buffy shook her head in frustrated confusion. "No, but-"

"I think that was pretty decent of him," she said, swallowing another bite of her cinnamon bun, "That reminds me, Darren's making dinner tonight. Be here at six."

xxx

With her backpack slung around her shoulder, Quinn trudged through the snow up to Dudley Road after school, a frown on her face. Jesse was supposed to pick her up, like he did on the days they were supposed to train, but he never showed, leaving her freezing and wet outside of McKinley High. She trekked up his stately driveway, making footprints in the icy slush with her high leather zip boots. Jesse may have decided to ditch her today, but she wasn't going to let him off that easy. Just before she could make it to the steps that led to his white front door, it flung open and Jesse stormed out, looking a little cold in just a light black sweater.

Quinn was surprised by the anger on his face as he quickly stomped down the steps of the porch. He froze in his spot as he caught sight of her standing there, and although he didn't smile, his face softened considerably.

"Quinn..." he said, slightly confused.

She blinked at him and tried to muster up her previous anger, before he had stormed out here. "You didn't pick me up."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I must have forgot," he said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"Yeah, well, I had to walk all the way here in the snow."

"I apologise," he said politely, "You must be freezing."

Quinn shrugged. "No. I'm fine. I... warmed myself."

"Right," Jesse smirked, "Pyro."

"Don't call me that. What's up with you, anyways? Why did you storm out like that? Did the maid forget to pick up your dry cleaning?"

Jesse frowned. "Jennifer came back home today."

"Welcome home, big sister."

"It's not her, it's my parents. They keep treating me like this huge failure. Like I should have amounted to more by now. I'm only nineteen. We had a fight."

Quinn shuffled awkwardly. "Sorry."

"Whatever. I'd rather not discuss it."

"Okay. If you want, we can train at my house..."

Jesse wrinkled his nose. "Your house? With the vampire and her mother?"

"Her name is Santana," Quinn bristled, "But yeah. Or are you scared?"

Jesse smiled. "Your house it is."