By the time the guests turned up we were dressed, the turkey was cooking, and Giles was peeling and chopping away at assorted vegetables I wasn’t planning on eating.

I’d offered to help earlier on, before they arrived, but there wasn’t much room in there and he’d quirked his eyebrow and told me to get out the good wine glasses instead. Told me. Because I’d waited until we were both ready for visitors and then told him that I’d finished playing with one of my presents and as far as I was concerned he could take it back to the shop, so to speak. He’d turned to look at me and I’m not sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t budging on this.

“I said you could have the whole day,” he pointed out. “You’re sure?”

I kept my distance. I had a feeling that today I’d only have to get within arms reach of him to be wanting him, no matter how often we’d fucked, and I wanted to tell him this without interruptions. He had that little smile on his face, the one that barely lifts the corners of his mouth but changes his expression as dramatically as a grin. OK, maybe I shouldn’t look at him either...

“Giles, it’s not that I don’t get off on you down on your knees for me.” Could have phrased that better. His eyes went green, the way they did when he was concentrating on me, just me, and I stepped towards him before I could stop myself. “Fuck. Don’t look like that.”

“Like what?” He sounded interested and his voice was level but I could feel him react as if I was inside his skin. He wasn’t hard again; too soon since the last time, but he was aroused, as much as he had been on the stairs a while earlier. I watched his hands, not his face. He could keep that expressionless without trying, but his hands gave him away. His fingers were curling closed, the nails digging into his palms and as he saw my eyes shift to them, he spread them flat and pressed them against the counter top he was leaning on. Then they curled and gripped tightly again.

“You know,” I said, folding my arms to keep myself still.

“Spike, we’ve got a lot to do and no time for games. If you’ve got something to tell me, I suggest you –”

I cut him off. He’d made that sound bored, slightly impatient, but I’d long since figured out how fake that tone of voice was. He used it to goad me or to hide behind. He used it to make me think he was angry. Now? Hiding.

“Giles, face it. You’re not set up for submitting, not to me, not to anyone. Listen to you; even before I told you I wanted to stop this, you were telling me you wanted side plates, making me refold the bloody napkins in triangles not squares. You were supposed to be obeying me, remember? Not just when you’re being fucked; well, it never is for me. You want me to be honest here?”

His eyes glinted. “Anything else has never been an option for you under this roof.”

“See? Listen to you! Giles, it won’t work. Not for a day, not for an hour longer and I don’t fucking want it. Not...right this way. Doesn’t feel right.”

“We can stop, Spike,” he said, his voice soft now. “I hadn’t realised how difficult it would be to swap places like this. I thought I could –” He stopped, shook his head ruefully and met my eyes. “I’ve spent so much of my life being told what to do, that you’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not. The only way I can be persuaded to play along –“

“Not playing here. And I know what does it, Giles. Guilt. State you were in when this started, six months ago, I could have had you agreeing to obey me easily enough. Could have broken you, too, if I’d wanted that. Once I’d got you under me...oh, you’d have been sweet, you really would. But I didn’t, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. His arms were folded now and he was tense, watching me carefully.

“That’s because I’m not stupid.”

“Did I ever say you were?”

I glared at him. “Well, yes. Often. Want details?”

“Spare me. So you don’t think I housebreak well?”

Had to grin at that image. “Giles, I might have been able to break you when you were so fucking low you were ready to top yourself, no pun intended, but once you’d snapped out of it? No way.”

He smiled at that, looking almost flustered. “That’s – well, I’m flattered.”

“By me telling you you’re a stubborn git?” I sighed. “It wasn’t exactly a compliment, you know.”

“Coming from you, I rather think it was.”

Like most of our meaningful discussions, this one had died a death. Didn’t matter. I’d got Giles and me back where we belonged for now and it was getting late. I turned away, heading back to the table, wondering just how I could end up sitting close enough to Giles to be able to touch him and knowing I couldn’t because he’d expect me to sit at the foot, opposite him. He said my name and I glanced back.

“Spike? My present...? It isn’t something I shouldn’t open in front of the others, is it?” He sounded casual but I could see him fretting, just a little.

I grinned. “Going to make you wait even longer, just for that.”

He frowned and muttered something under his breath that I pretended not to hear and then said idly, “The collar wasn’t the only present I had with your name on it, you know.”

“It didn’t have my name on it,” I pointed out, keeping a smile off my face very carefully.

“Are you trying to change the subject? Or just in dire need of a spanking?”

I grinned then. “Hold that thought, Giles. I hear footsteps.”

“God, it’s like living with a guard dog sometimes.”

“Except I can’t bite,” I said, opening the door. Giles joined me, taking advantage of the crush to smack my backside in passing, and started in on the usual greetings no one listens to or answers. I stepped back and watched the room fill up with noise and excitement. Not sure how much of it was real and how much for Dawn’s sake, but she was beaming happily and shaking her hair back to show off sparkling earrings from Willow and that seemed genuine enough, though I could tell she’d been crying at some point.

Then someone spotted where Xander was standing. Right under the mistletoe. I’d snuck a bit from the shop just before Christmas. I didn’t have to of course; Giles would have given it to me if I’d asked, but I couldn’t believe how much Anya was selling it for. In England you could buy a big bunch of it, fresh and sticky, for a quid or two; she wanted triple that for a sprig of the stuff. Ripoff, so I stole some on principle and got Giles when he came home that night, kissing him before he had chance to say ‘hello’ and not stopping until the only thing he had to say when I stopped was, “Upstairs. Now.” Got to love traditions. He still spanked me for nicking it though, which definitely came under the heading of ‘acceptable risk’. Or ‘bonus’.

Xander tried to move but he got hit by a wave of girls, all over him until he was grinning like a fool. Then they remembered Giles and flocked to the kitchen, ignoring him when he pointed out that he wasn’t under the mistletoe, so technically – then Anya grabbed him and I looked away before Giles caught me laughing at his expression of polite terror. Xander was standing still and I started to walk over to him, thinking I’d be a good host and dump the coats upstairs, out of the way. Then I stopped moving. He was looking at me, and as soon as he had my attention he glanced up at the mistletoe and then raised an eyebrow.

Fuck. It threw me and he saw it, giving me a smile that wasn’t nasty exactly; think we’d gone past mutual loathing, but it wasn’t friendly either. Git was challenging me. Huh. He’d have to do better than that. One kiss? Not a problem my end, though he wasn’t my type. Took one step forward, planning on wiping the grin off his face and making him blush, and then hesitated. Giles wouldn’t like it. Not Xander. That was all it took to make the whole pissing contest a waste of time. I shook my head, just a fraction, and watched him sneer faintly. Then he bit his lip and Giles’ hand came down on my shoulder, squeezing it firmly. We stood there, side by side, with the chatter of the girls in the kitchen insulating us, locking the three of us inside a quiet space, cold and still, and Xander stared at us, still chewing on his lip, looking as if he was one breath away from growling.

God, that boy was more trouble than all of them put together. Giles let me go and walked over to him. Four steps, and Xander’s face was all I could see, but it went from hackles raised to puppy- eyed fawning and I bet Giles’ face hadn’t changed at all. Giles rested his hand on Xander’s shoulder and brought his other hand up, pulling Xander to him for a quick hug. “Happy Christmas, Xander,” he said.

I went back to setting the table. If Giles kissed him, I didn’t want to watch, and if Xander started sniveling I’d kick him out myself. Dawn was behaving herself and he could too.

The background noise of the girls getting drinks died away and I looked over at the kitchen to find them staring at me, four women, four identical looks of appraisal on their faces. Giles and Xander were talking, nice and normal, Giles complaining that one of the windows was sticking, Xander offering to sand it down sometime or something – all good stuff not likely to lead to drama even if it was a bit obvious. So, if they weren’t picking up on the tension, and I don’t think they’d noticed anything, why were they staring – oh, fuck.

“Vampires don’t do Christmas,” I said firmly. “It’s against the rules. Besides, I’m nowhere near the mistletoe.” Not that that had saved Giles.

Willow grinned and murmured a few words and looked up, smiling, at a ceiling covered with green and white. Tara sighed and then shook her head indulgently. “You will take it away again, won’t you?”

“Eventually,” Willow said pertly. Tara pursed up her lips and tried to look stern. Needed some lessons from Giles; that wouldn’t have scared a two year old.

Willow came over to me and kissed me before I had chance to run. Warm little armful, but I could feel the power crackling off her and it unsettled me a little. Tara followed her and kissed my cheek, hugging me as if she wanted to, then Anya grabbed me and made the most of it until I expected Xander to come over and drag her off. She still tasted of Giles and that wasn’t helping to calm me down. Dawn made it all better, looking up at me with that sweet little smile she has and trying to make her mind up what to do. Saved her the trouble; I put my hands on her shoulders, said, “Merry Christmas, Little Bit,” and brushed her forehead with a kiss.

She stared up at me, pulled a face and grabbed me, planting a kiss full on my mouth and hugging me hard. “You’re so old fashioned sometimes, Spike.”

“Well, yeah. Comes of being born before your great grandmother, I suppose.”

I was feeling happy. Hadn’t wanted them all here but now they were – then I felt a tap on my arm and turned around to see Giles looking at me. “Is there some reason I don’t get a kiss?” he said.

I glanced around. Anya and Xander and Tara and Willow were taking advantage of the magical mistletoe, which was slowly fading away, and Dawn had found the bowl of chips and was getting crumbs everywhere. “Can’t think of one.”

Giles kissed me, arms around me, a proper kiss but not making a production out of it, and I reached up to touch his face as he pulled back, smiling.

Looked around to see everyone was watching us and looking fucking sappy if they weren’t Xander. He was staring at the floor. They’d all mellowed the last few months but it took Christmas to get that look in their eyes. Or maybe Giles had put rum in the eggnog after all.

“You two,” Dawn said. “You’re so big with the smoochies. It’s gross at your age. Do we open the presents now?”



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