December 15, 2007 9:45 PM

It had his name on it.

Connor glanced at Raven before his eyes fell back to his gift. He ran a finger longingly across the name tag, sighed, and placed the present he was holding in his free hand against the one he had found.

Saturday night and he had chosen to help her wrap presents instead of going out with the guys or on a date. Of course, his father and Cordelia being in town had helped sway his decision but it was mostly the pleading in the petite fairy’s voice that had kept him here.

The whole afternoon and evening had been fun. Earlier in the day Connor had taken Raven and Elijah to the mall for some shopping. He smiled when he remembered the extra photo he had purchased of the siblings on Santa’s lap. His copy was hidden in his car while the duplicate was framed on the mantel for Spike when he returned. It wasn’t too far from the stocking Raven had bought him when she found out he had never had one; mimicking their positions during patrol. He knew it was ridiculous for someone his age to be taking such delight in the season but he had never spent a holiday done with such movie fanfare. Growing up he hadn’t even known things like this existed and when he had come home, no one in Los Angeles had gotten into it like they did in Sunnydale.

“Finger,” Raven said, holding the ribbon apart.

Connor placed his finger where needed, enjoying the view as she bent over to pull the bow tight. Guilt stabbed at him and he looked up to see if anyone noticed but Buffy was still upstairs while Angel was reading over Cordy’s shoulder as she leafed through a magazine. The contentment on his Dad’s face was a rare one as Angel’s fingers caressed his wife’s arm. Connor felt the nudge on his leg and turned back to Raven who was handing him another package to put under the tree. He grinned at her and scooted back.

“Do you know your eyes are keeping time to the music?” Connor asked, enjoying the effect of her eyes going from a deep blue to a lighter almost sky blue in rhythm to the holiday jazz that was on the stereo.

“It means I’m happy,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders as she reached into her shopping bag and pulled out a sweater. “I still don’t know if Dad is going to like this.” She replied holding up the red and black garment.

“It’ll look good on him,” Cordelia said. “Give it to him anyway.”

“Okay,” Raven said, smiling up at the other woman. “Hand me the gold paper.”

Connor handed her the requested paper as she moved her leg out to gain more room. He knew he shouldn’t but he moved so that his leg was closer to her foot and waited. It didn’t take long and her toes were against his thigh. There was a jolt of electricity at contact and he relished the small thrill. There couldn’t be anything but these small touches between them and once again he wished that she were older.

“Are you going to come and spend Christmas in LA with us?” Angel asked.

The question wasn’t unexpected. Connor had been waiting for it to come for days but the moment it was asked, he tensed up. No matter how he responded, he would be miserable. If he went back to Los Angeles, he wouldn’t be happy because he wasn’t where he wanted to be. If he stayed here then Angel would be upset with him and Connor would feel guilty for hurting him. In a gesture of defense, Connor drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around them.

“I’d like to stay in Sunnydale,” Connor answered.

“That’s fine,” Angel said, standing to walk into the kitchen. “I figured that was what you wanted.”

The door swung shut behind him and Connor looked up at Raven for courage and support. Beside him, Cordelia took a deep breath, and he knew the lecture was coming.

“Go talk to him, Con,” Raven said first, her toes stroking his leg. “You know he loves you so quit doing this.”

“He’s not going to understand.”

“He’s not until you explain it to him. Don’t tell him everything that’s wrong. He knows that. Tell him what you’re feeling and what you want.”

Taking her advice, he squeezed her leg and followed his father. In the kitchen Angel was pouring blood into a mug and Connor waited until it was in the microwave before speaking, taking the time to rehearse in his head what he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry. I’m not doing it to hurt you.”

“No,” Angel said. “That’s just an added bonus.”

“I know you’re not going to believe it but no its not. I want to be here for Christmas, that’s all. Did you see it out there? It’s like…”

“Santa’s workshop?” Angel finished. He gestured toward the kitchen table. “They even have Santa and Mrs. Claus salt and pepper shakers. Who would think that William the Bloody would sit down and eat with humans using Mrs. Claus to flavor his food? That’s really rich.”

“You’re the one that wanted to be human again.”

“True, but I guess I didn’t deserve that. No, my grand-childe gets the life I wanted.”

“You’re broodier than usual.”

Angel pulled the mug from the microwave and took a long drink before meeting his son’s gaze.

“Don’t take me wrong. I love that woman out there. She has stood by me and loved me when no one else would.”

“Even your son?”

His father nodded and looked away. It would only take three words to make Angel happy but Connor wasn’t sure he was ready. Instead he offered something else that might one day take them there.

“I’d like for you to be here for Christmas. I know you and Cordelia don’t really care about all of this stuff,” Connor said. “But I do and I want to be here with them.”

“With Raven?”

It was Connor’s turn to nod, still unsure of how much to let his father know. There wasn’t anything for everyone to get upset about yet and he didn’t want anyone to think there was. Raven was special to him and was always there to point him in the right direction when he got muddled. Like tonight.

“So, will you be here?” Connor asked.

A sound from outside prevented Angel from replying, sending the two men into defensive mode. A car was coming around the corner of the house and screeching to a stop in the back yard.

December 15, 2007 6:57 PM EST - Atlanta

The day had been long and grueling. Hour after hour Spike had signed books for people he once considered happy meals but was now putting food on the table for his family. His eyes hurt from all the camera flashes and his mouth ached from smiling. No one had been turned down in hopes that the stalker would make an appearance but nothing suspicious had happened. Every once in a while Max would nudge his leg to have Spike talk to a woman a little longer, get a little more information but nothing concrete had unfolded along the way. Now, he was frustrated, tired, and hungry.

The two men strode into the lobby of the hotel and while Max veered off for the elevator, Spike turned toward the bar. He didn’t stop when his friend called his name or asked him to slow down. His feet kept moving until he was sitting on a stool and had told the bartender, “Whiskey, top shelf, straight and make it a double.”

“You really should eat something first,” Max said, sitting next to Spike.

Spike stared at the television over the bar and tossed a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

“Happy now, Mom?”

“Why don’t we go upstairs, get changed and head out?”

“Now, you sound like my girlfriend.”

“Vodka and tonic,” Max ordered then sighed and reached for some peanuts. “This isn’t going to help, you know?”

“You never know, besides what else is there to do?”

“We’re in Atlanta. I’m sure we could find something to do.”

The words jolted Spike back three years to when he was talking Buffy into taking off for a few days. They had just finished destroying some super witch’s plan to open the Hellmouth and were both exhausted, physically and emotionally. In the end she had agreed and they had ridden off on his bike, riding along the coastal highway until they stopped in a small town. For three days they had stayed there, sleeping, shagging and drinking. As soon as it would get dark they’d hit the bar and when it closed they’d play naked in the ocean until the sun was threatening to dust him. On the last night, Buffy had been so free and happy that she danced on the bar with some other women. Her long skirt twirling seductively around her legs and to show all the men who she belonged to, she had dived off the bar, laughing and into his arms. She never doubted for a moment that he would catch her and they hadn’t made it back to the motel, instead they had made love on the motorcycle in some dense foliage off the highway.

“What do you say, Spike?” Max said, interrupting Spike’s reverie.

“Say to what?”

That time of freedom was as gone as surely as the girl he had spent it with. The woman he had left behind in California was desperately trying to hold onto reality and her life. And the laughter was now bittersweet as they forced themselves to have good times because tomorrow it might be gone for good.

Ignoring Max’s plea to go out, Spike held his glass up, “To Buffy, my long haul girl.” He drained the glass and knew there was a part of him that was already mourning her.

“Fine, then, lets get a table and order some appetizers or something,” Max said. “I’m starving.”

“Do you know that you whine like a girl?”

“And do you know you’re stubborn and at the moment really maudlin? This isn’t really you, by the way.”

“It is tonight,” Spike said, his attention drawn to two women at the end of the bar who were staring at them. “There are a couple of birds at three o’clock, checking you out.”

Spike smiled as his friend turned to look at the women. One was a redhead with delicate features and her friend wore her dark hair in a short feminine style. Both were attractive in their own way.

“I would say they are checking us out.”

“I’m married,” Spike replied, lifting his hand to flash his wedding band at them when he remembered the ring was in the hotel safe. Max had felt it would be better if he wasn’t wearing it at the signing, hoping that its absence would draw a comment from the stalker. “Bollocks.”

Spike rubbed his nude finger and felt the absence of its reassuring presence. It was something that he had never thought he would wear but had come to treasure it. A symbol to the world that Buffy loved him and they truly belonged together. So, intent on his thoughts, he didn’t see the women move and he jumped at the voice over his shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Amber,” the redhead said, “and this is my friend, Nikki. Would you like to join us for drinks?”

December 15, 2007 10:20 PM

Screeching tires along the side of the side of the house had Raven and Cordelia racing through the house, closely followed by a barking Candy. They reached the kitchen entrance just as Angel was opening the back door while Connor backed him up.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” the man, standing on the porch said. There was blood pouring down his face from a gash on his forehead and his breath was labored as he tried to talk. “They were killing him. And I didn’t know…”

“Sam,” Raven said, dashing to the young man. “Who? Killing who? Are you all right?”

“He’s in my car. He’s hurt,” Sam answered and he waved his hand in the general direction of the vehicle that was parked haphazardly in the back yard.

“Get him in the house,” Angel ordered. “Connor, come with me.”

Raven took Sam’s arm and led him into the living room just as Buffy was coming down the stairs. When her mother saw the hurt young man, she rushed into the room.

“Cordelia there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” Buffy said, sitting on the ottoman as the brunette hurrying off as instructed. “What happened?”

“There’s someone else with him,” Raven informed her mother as Buffy checked the gash on Sam’s head. He winced when she prodded it with her thumb.

“Sorry, Sam,” Buffy said, smiling at him. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Buffy reached for the kit and towels that Cordelia carried into the room. They all looked up when Angel and Connor returned with a badly beaten man between them. Raven grabbed the afghan and spread it over the couch so they could lay the injured man on it. As she took in the bloodied man there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that someone had been trying to kill him

“I was just leaving this bar near campus,” Sam relayed. “And I heard this noise and followed it. These two guys had him cornered and were beating the shit out of him. They kept saying he didn’t belong because he wasn’t human and they didn’t want his kind around. I jumped in and got him out of there.”

“Told him,” the man on the couch spoke up, “I’m half demon; got myself two hearts…couldn’t treat me in the ER.”

“His name is Chad,” Sam said. “He’s in my sociology class. I don’t understand why this happened.”

“Things like this you don’t,” Raven said. “He needs medical attention. We need to call Kate.”

If it wasn’t an emergency she never would have suggested it. But there weren’t a whole lot of places where you could get medical attention for a demon period, much less on a Saturday night. The flash of unease in her mother’s eyes made her wish that there were other choices.

“Do it now,” Buffy said, wiping the blood from Sam’s face.

Raven hurried to the phone and dialed the number as she watched the others galvanized into action. Cordelia situated Chad on the couch with pillows while Angel helped her. Connor left to move the car while Buffy continued to tend to Sam. She briefly explained the situation and was relieved when Kate said she would help.

“She said she’s on her way,” Raven said. “Mum when she gets her maybe you should wait upstairs.”

Her mother only nodded as she bandaged Sam’s wound. It was done and Raven hoped that Buffy could hold herself together while Kate was in the house.

December 15, 2007 8:45 PM EST- Atlanta

McKendrick’s Steakhouse was one of Atlanta’s better restaurants and it made Spike uncomfortable with its lean toward formality. Max had picked it out in order to impress the two women. Amber was one of those women that reminded Spike of Harmony and it was irritating him as she giggled again at something that his friend said. He didn’t really want to be here and had protested when the suggestion of the drinks had moved to dinner but he had been overruled. Instead of spending the evening alone in his hotel room, he had tagged along after making sure that the girls knew he was married and not looking for anything.

Nikki was a nice enough girl and upon closer inspection was prettier than Spike had originally thought. Her mischief filled eyes were grey with a spattering of freckles across her nose. She laughed a lot, too; not an insipid giggle but a laugh that sounded like she enjoyed life. She was about the same height as Buffy but heavier with an ample bosom that her black shirt clung to. She was wearing a short grey skirt and her bare leg brushed against Spike’s every time she moved. He knew it wasn’t intentional and didn’t complain about the contact caused by the small confines of the booth.

“Yeah, we’re in town for a banking convention,” Amber said, tossing her red hair and trailing her fingers along Max’s arm.

Spike laughed at her overly suggestive mannerisms and a glance at Nikki showed her rolling her eyes at her friend. Maybe they weren’t as close as he had originally thought.

“So, where do you hail from then,” Spike asked.

“Not far actually,” Nikki replied. “I’m from Jacksonville, FL. Drove up yesterday for this thing. Need my certification in Current Lending Compliance Issues.”

Spike nodded to show he was listening and wondered how long he would be stuck with them. Nikki laughed, putting her hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to be polite,” she explained. “I know to the general populace its boring as hell.”

It was something in her personality that caught Spike’s attention. The ability to laugh and the forthrightness that made him relax and start talking to her. She wasn’t afraid to look him directly in the eye and when dinner was ordered, she didn’t hesitate to order a meal. Unlike Amber who insisted she had to watch her weight and had ordered a salad. As far as Spike was concerned the tall redhead was already too skinny and dismissed her as someone who was too fake for him to relate to. Nikki kept the conversation going and seemed interested in him and the things he liked. After months of pressure and frustration Spike found that he was free of it all as the girl next to him weaved a spell of enticement.

December 16, 2007 1:12 AM

Outside a car started and Buffy slipped from her room. It had been hours since Kate and Giles had arrived and she was tired of being confined. She stopped in Raven’s room to check on Chad. The boy had been put there for the night when Kate had concluded that he was too injured to be moved. After pulling the covers further over the young man and a brief check on the sleeping Elijah, Buffy headed downstairs. She wanted to find out if Sean had enjoyed the dance and if anyone had heard from Spike. Over the course of her confinement she had made a few attempts to call him but had only gotten his voice mail and was becoming worried. It had been before dinner since she had received his last quick call when he had assured he would talk to her later.

At the bottom of the stairs, Buffy turned to head into the living room, when she looked up and saw Giles speaking with Angel. She froze, hating that she had something to fear, from this man.

“Buffy, I was told you were ill,” Giles said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I am,” Buffy replied, stepping closer to Angel. “It must have been something at dinner that upset my stomach. I came down to get some water.”

Giles reached for her and Buffy took a step backwards running into Angel who put his hand on her waist to steady her.

“What’s the matter? You look afraid of me.”

Maybe because I am, Buffy thought, looking up at the older man. It was ridiculous. It wasn’t like he was going to drag her off. Or would he? She knew there were legal procedures in order to commit someone but doubted that if Giles wanted to put her away he would go that route. She remembered what it was like being taken by the Council when she had been inside Faith’s body and took a step to run back upstairs but Giles grabbed her arm.

“No,” Buffy cried, wrenching her arm from him. “You can’t take me away from my family. They need me and I need them.”

“Buffy, what do you think I’m going to do?”

“You do want to have her committed to a psychiatric facility,” Cordelia said. “That might have something to do with her being afraid of you.”

Buffy sat on the stairs, breathing deep and hoping that wasn’t going to lose her grip on reality in front of everyone. She knew her breathing was too rapid and she wished that Spike was there to hold onto. She watched as Giles stood, flummoxed at Cordy’s statement, until he sat beside her and took her hand.

“All I wanted was for Spike to consider it,” Giles said. “I’m not going to have them drag you out of here, kicking and screaming. You’ve been through a lot in the last few years and maybe if you were under constant supervision you might be able to beat this thing once and for all.”

“You’re thinking I’m still having problems from when I came back?”

“Yes, actually I do, you’ve never been the same girl since then. Never quite as strong as you were before everything happened.”

“Being ripped from heaven might have something to do with that,” Angel said. “It would probably cause anyone’s personality to change.”

Buffy pulled her hand away from Giles.

“So, all these years of support and supposed happiness for me and the choices I’ve made, have been lies? You really think I’ve been sick since then?”

“No, not sick, more fragile and more susceptible to things,” Giles said. A sigh fell from his lips as he stood. “I’m sorry if you thought that I was going to force Spike to commit you because I’m not. I just think that, maybe, anyway it’s not my decision. Kate is waiting in the car.”

No one answered him and Giles left, closing the door quietly behind him.

“You okay?” Angel asked.

“I’m fine,” Buffy replied. She was when she took a moment to search herself. It was one less thing to worry about if Giles was telling the truth. And maybe if she had fewer things to worry about then she might find a way to overcome what was happening to her. She looked up at her friends. “Have either of you heard from Spike?”

December 15, 2007 11:32 PM EST - Atlanta

The whiskey was smooth and Spike took another drink, enjoying the warmth as it flowed down his throat. Nikki was beside him at the hotel bar. As soon as they had returned from dinner, Max and Amber had gone upstairs leaving the two of them unaccompanied. Nikki had suggested the bar instead of spending the rest of the evening alone in their rooms.

“So, anyway,” Spike said, “Now my editor is saying they want to make a movie from the first book.”

“And here I am, humbly, sitting beside the next Stephen King,” Nikki teased. “Make sure you leave me your autograph. Oh, wait a minute here, sign this.” She pushed a cocktail napkin at him. “This way I can say I had drinks with you, too.”

Spike didn’t sign it, knowing she didn’t mean it because she was totally unimpressed at his new status in life. It seemed his companion was from a family that mingled with the upper echelon of society including celebrities. Her stories could out do any story he had from when he lived the life of a vampire. And she told them with a flair that had kept them talking for hours. Her banking career was only to please her father so that she could take over the family business when he retired.

Spike’s cell phone went off and he picked it up. It was home and knew this time he needed to answer it. When he had turned it on after leaving the restaurant, there had been several messages from Buffy and he hadn’t returned them yet. It was wrong but none had hinted at a true emergency just a desire to speak with him.

“Sorry, pet, it’s the wife again.”

Nikki nodded and turned her attention to the television.

“Hello,” Spike answered.

“Spike, is everything okay?” Buffy said. ”I tried calling you.”

“I’m sorry. We were at dinner and I had it turned off.”

“Oh.”

“Everything all right? Was there a problem?” Spike asked, the petulant tone in Buffy’s voice made him sigh and rub his fingers over his eyes. Just like that, everything came crashing back to him.

“No, nothing major. We have a beaten up demon sleeping in Raven’s room and Giles was here.”

Nikki picked up the pen and wrote a note on the napkin before standing. She kissed his cheek and slid her lips toward his ear and whispered, “No strings.”

Spike didn’t quite register what Buffy said as he watched Nikki walk from the bar, appreciating the gentle rocking of her hips.

“But everything is okay now?” Spike asked when he realized that Buffy had quit talking.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just fine. I’m glad that you are having a great time there. Tell you what; unless the house is burning down I won’t call you. Talk to you when you get back.”

It took a moment for him to realize that Buffy had hung up on him and Spike dropped the phone on the bar with a low growl. He knew he should call her back and find out what had happened (and if Giles was trying to cause trouble) but he couldn’t force himself to do it as all the frustration came rolling back. Deciding to wait until he was in his room and was calmer, he signaled the bartender to bring the check. It was then that he remembered the note and looked down. All it had was her room number. Plain, simple, no complications and what had she said? No strings.

Spike signed the bill and headed upstairs. In the elevator his finger went to push the button for his floor when he hesitated. He leaned his head against the coolness of the metal above the number pad. He knew what was right and wrong, what he should or shouldn’t do, closing his eyes; he sorted through his conflicting emotions and stood, coming to a decision. Without another thought he pushed the button to follow it through.

to be continued…