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2025
He didn’t say anything, but she could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t the lack of words. It was the lack of breath to say them with. She knew all this because she felt exactly the same way.
“Y-you look amazing,” he said finally, his dark eyes inviting somehow.
“So do you,” she replied. It was true for both of them. Buffy was Christmasy—yet stunning—in a floor length red dress that brought out matching highlights in her red-gold hair. Alex was simple and elegant and gorgeous in black and white—black pants, white shirt and black jacket. If there was one thing he really hadn’t inherited from his father, it was fashion sense. Somehow though, Buffy didn’t think it came from his mother either. It was too simple for that, too classy (though Cordelia was always classy . . . just in her own Gucci way).
“We should probably go,” she said when she managed to speak again. He nodded then stopped.
“I brought you a corsage,” he said, turning. He picked it up and held it out . . . the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. And the fact that he’d brought her a corsage took her breath away. This was their first date. It was so strange to think of this as a first date. She felt like they’d been together eternally, yet it’d only been three days. Three days, and the only reason you could say that was that they decided they were going out. No date. No nothing. Well, kissing, but Buffy wasn’t sure that counted in the official “dating” world. Their parents didn’t even know. Well, that would change when they showed up together. Both had helped prepare all day and excused themselves to go home and dress. Then Alex had come over to “pick her up” even though they were walking. It was only a few blocks, after all.
“Thank you,” Buffy said, taking it. She took out one red flower and tucked it in his jacket, then put the rest around her wrist. “Shall we go?” He nodded and took her hand, leading her out of the house into the December air. Christmas Eve. Buffy loved Christmas Eve and always had. It made her feel good inside somehow. She’d spent the morning with Sion and Alex at a homeless children’s Christmas party giving them gifts. She always did something like that on Christmas Eve. It was tradition, and she loved it as much as opening her own gifts.
They paused under the mistletoe in the front doorway and kissed slowly before leaving the house. It was so strange to be with Alex in this way and at the same time so incredibly *right*. They’d grown up together, but all of a sudden the vague affection she’d always felt for him had crystallized. She couldn’t think about anything but him. Everything he did seemed incredibly sweet and kind and wonderful. She was majorly crushing. She was bordering on obsessive. If she hadn’t known better (after all, they’d kissed for the first time three days ago) she’d say she was in love. But that was impossible. Even if they hadn’t just met, in some ways, they *had*. Which didn’t work logically, but her heart understood what she meant anyway.
The walk to the Bronze was short. Almost too short. As much as she looked forward to the party and to seeing all her friends and family, there was something incredible about just being with Alex. Just the two of them. It felt like it was meant to be that way suddenly, like everyone else was just a side note.
This is insane! Buffy told herself. I’m acting—or at least thinking—like we’ve been together for years! Three days, Elisabeth Rosenburg! Three *days*! But whenever she looked over at him her heart did a little flippy thing and she wanted to melt right then and there.
The Bronze was full—not too full though, since it was invitations only and Cordelia was extremely selective. Harmony Laker had been trying to get she and her husband in for years and had never succeeded. Buffy, for one, was extremely glad—and the music was the perfect volume. She couldn’t remember the name of the band, but they were really famous. Friends of her father. They’d been in the area and he invited them to come for Christmas. They’d offered to play. That was ten years ago. Now it was a tradition, and other bands came too. In fact, they vied for who got to play on Christmas Eve. Cordelia was in heaven every year planning the party. People from all over the country tried to get on the guest list. She limited to friends and family though—with once in a while a movie star or two thrown in. Magazines came sometimes and took pictures for their fashion pages. For a town like Sunnydale and people who weren’t even famous—except for Oz—they were well known. The Bronze itself was known around the country the whole year round. People came to see where Dingoes Ate My Baby started, talk to Xander—probably the most famous bartender that wasn’t on a TV show—and enjoy the atmosphere. Cordelia raked in the dough. Buffy loved the Bronze. To her it wasn’t a nightclub, it was an extension of home.
“There’s your mom,” Buffy said, spotting Cordelia. She looked radiant, surrounded by a crowd of people and totally in her element. Alex smiled fondly.
“She loves this party,” he said.
“Ever since that one they missed or whatever it was . . . the year it snowed?”
“Yeah. Every time this year Dad goes into how disappointed she was and then Mom gets annoyed and then they make up with Christmas verve,” Alex said smiling.
“Should we go say hello?” Buffy asked uneasily. She saw her parents dancing and Xander mixing a couple of drinks at the bar. A slow song started up. She’d heard it on the radio like nine million times, but it was one of her favorites.
“No. Let’s dance. We’ll say hello later,” Alex said, drawing her out to the dance floor. Buffy followed willingly, linking her arms around his neck as if she’d been doing it forever. Was this really the first time they’d danced? No, they must have danced sometimes in the past, but this was the first time they really danced to a slow song. It felt familiar though, and perfect. They fit together just right.
“Mm, good idea,” Buffy murmured laying her head against his chest and letting him move them to the music.
“Buffy, I—” She looked up at him, her green eyes bright and not just from the Christmas lights.
“What?” she asked, sensing something in the air, a confession on the tip of his tongue. His hand caressed her cheek softly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
“Is that all?” Buffy asked, but not in a bad way. Because it wasn’t all and she knew it.
“This is going to sound crazy. I . . . I feel like we’ve been together forever. Like we have something more than a few kisses.”
“I know the feeling. When I look into the future now . . . I see you,” Buffy whispered.
“So do I. See you, that is. I see you everywhere, even when you’re nowhere near me . . .”
“You’re always there,” Buffy finished and he nodded. She smiled slowly and laid her head against his chest. “We have time Alex. We have all the time in the world.”
“I know. I don’t feel like it, but I know.”
“This time we have all the time we could ever want,” Buffy whispered, and then looked up at him again, startled by her own words.
“What other time is there?” he asked, voicing both their questions.
“I don’t know. It just kind of came out,” Buffy whispered, frowning slightly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said, just as the song ended. “Worry about what our parents are going to say.”
“They’ll be happy,” Buffy said firmly. “Very happy. Ecstatic even. I mean, we’re old enough and all, and I bet they always dreamed their children would marry. It’s one of those things . . . those things that parents dream . . . I think . . .” Alex smiled and took her arm, leading her over to their now-assembled parents.
“We should have come before and taken them on one at a time,” he muttered as they approached.
“Too late now,” she replied in a low voice. She smiled cheerily at Sion, who had made it and looked stunning in a green satin dress the color of her eyes, with her hair twisted up on her head and her ivory skin nearly glowing.
“Hi Mom!” Buffy said, kissing her mother’s cheek. “Hi Dad.” Oz was in the Christmas spirit with dark red hair matching his wife’s.
“Where have you two been?” Willow asked, not noticing yet that they were holding hands. That was better than Cordelia, who was too busy being admired to even realize they were there yet.
“Dancing,” Buffy answered lightly. Willow nodded, then realized that the last song had been slow.
“Just now?” Oz asked, coming to the same realization.
“Yes,” Alex answered.
“Hey! Buffy, looking good,” Xander exclaimed, seeing them for the first time. “Alex, taking after your father in a good way!” Buffy and Alex laughed despite themselves, still nervous about the upcoming realizations.
“You know it Dad,” Alex said, greeting his father.
“Did you both just get here? Coincidence rears its head!” Buffy and Alex exchanged glances.
“Actually, we came . . . together,” Buffy said after a moment.
“Good idea. You never know what can be lurking on the streets . . . there’s all those homicidal homeless people, y’ know,” Xander joked. Nobody laughed. Buffy and Alex were too nervous and Willow and Oz were too stunned by what they’d just heard.
“I’m sensing more than protection issues at hand,” Oz said. “What’s going on?”
“We came together,” Buffy repeated.
“As in, *together* together,” Alex put in. This time, even Xander got it. Beside him, Cordelia chatted obliviously some friend.
“Oh,” Willow said softly. “*Oh*!”
“My goodness,” Oz added. Xander, for once, was speechless. Cordelia noticed something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” she asked innocently. “Oh, Buffy, love the dress! I told you it’d looked gorgeous. And Alex, darling, the classic style never fails!”
“They came together,” Oz told her. It took Cordelia a moment, and then her face brightened.
“Truth? You are so adorable together!” she exclaimed. Well, at least one of them was happy. Cordelia looked around and her friends and her husband. “Why aren’t we celebrating? Xander?”
“I’m not saying anything. I have nothing to say.” He frowned suddenly, trying to remember when he’d said that before.
“Well, I do. You’re . . . getting older, and it’s your choice who you want to date,” Oz put in.
“Yeah! I mean, we were dating at this age, right?” Willow said to her friends. Buffy and Alex exchanged looks. This seemed to be going at least marginally well.
“Right,” Xander said. Suddenly he realized something, just as the others did. He and Cordelia exchanged glances just as Willow and Oz did, and then all four started talking at once.
“If you try anything—”
“—Just because we dated doesn’t mean you should—”
“—you are *much* too young for a relationship—”
“—you need time—”
“—to find yourselves—”
“—without other people—”
“—totally alone—”
“—*absolutely* alone—” Alex and Buffy looked at each other and then back to their semi-frantic parents. They sighed. Then they started to talk. Loudly.
“Mom! Dad!” Buffy exclaimed. “Uncle Xander! Aunt Cordelia!” Alex joined her. The adults fell silent. “We’re not going to do anything rash or ill-advised stupid. We’re responsible. We’re old enough to make our own decisions and realize what may come from our actions if we chose to take them. Which we won’t.”
“Just because you may have done . . . whatever you did when you were near our age doesn’t mean we will. We’re not you,” Alex said.
“Not that you aren’t wonderful,” Buffy put in.
“But we don’t want to be you. Just because we’re going out doesn’t mean we’ll do anything stupid.”
“We won’t. We’re smart and . . . and not stupid,” Buffy put in.
“Exactly. We just want to go out. On dates or . . . not. Just be going out. And you can’t stop us. Plus, you shouldn’t. We have the right to be with who we want to be with.”
“And we want to be with each other.” Xander, Cordelia, Willow and Oz exchanged glances and sighs.
“We’ll talk about this,” Willow said finally. Buffy graciously thanked them and then she and Alex turned and walked away, ducking out of sight before they started grinning widely. They said they would talk, but both teenagers knew that meant it was okay.
“I want to be with you,” Buffy repeated, to him this time.
“And I want to be with you. I don’t know why, but I do. You’re beautiful and sweet and funny and I . . . I want to be with you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing bad. Nothing keeping us apart.”
“Nothing at all.”
“Kiss me Alex,” Buffy whispered, and he did and they did and whatever happened, they knew they were together now, with all their life ahead of them.
2002
The Bronze was a more than welcome sight when Buffy finally reached it. She kicked the snow-blocked door in and slid inside with a pile of snow. It was totally dark inside except for the thin, pale starlight shining in through the door. Beyond it small circle the club was pitch black. Buffy blessed her flashlight as she flipped it on.
“Light!” the cry went out. The place was as chaotic as she’d guessed it would be and heard someone scream as they saw a dead body. The vampires were in town. There were more cries of “Light!”
“Oh yes, that’s me. Light Girl,” Buffy replied, wondering where to start.
“Buffy?” a familiar voice called.
“Giles?” she asked, shining the flashlight in the direction of the voice. The librarian blinked beneath the light. “What are you doing here?”
“A-attending the . . . the party. Where have you been?”
“Cordy wanted to check her hair and make-up, so I used my keys to let us into the school. We were in the library when the lights went out. I came as soon as I could. Here’s a flashlight, get everyone outside or at least away. I can’t tell the difference between vampires and regular people in the dark.”
“What are you going to do?” Giles asked, worried suddenly.
“Just go Giles. I’ll be fine. Knowing how many there are might be nice, but I’ll be fine. Go now Giles,” Buffy said in a tone that brooked no argument. She handed him the flashlight and he went. When his flashlight was far enough away Buffy began to speak loudly.
“Angel?” she cried. “Xander? Willow? It’s me, Buffy. *Buffy*. Buffy Summers. Angel? Anyone? I think I’m injured.” They were coming, hearing her voice and name in the darkness and unable to resist the temptation to take her on in the absolute darkness—and with her injured. No one ever said vampires were brave, just mean. She kept talking and could soon hear over five of them near. Seven, she though, altogether. A lot, but she’d handled more.
The first one lunged at her—quietly, but not quietly enough. Buffy blocked it easily, since it hadn’t been expecting resistance. Then they all attacked.
Buffy scissor kicked one, using another to flip around and punch a fourth. She turned to stake one that was jumping at her. A punch landed on her abdomen and knocked her down, too quiet for to her avoid it. Darkness definitely had its disadvantages. Buffy kicked one off her and rolled away before two more could jump on her. She rolled back and staked one, pushing herself up on the other and flipping back, kicking out behind her when she landed and flipping one of them onto its back. She staked it and was knocked down by another. Three down, four to go. She kicked out, hitting two to the floor and threw a stake. A grunt told her that she had hit her mark. Three to go, but they were warier now and she was getting tired. She heard one behind her and spun, hand and stake up. A hand caught her arm. She could feel the coolness of a ring on his finger.
“Angel?” she asked softly.
“No other. I thought you might want some help,” he said just as softly.
“Well . . . only if you really want to . . .” she breathed. She could almost sense his smile in the darkness, and then she did sense something behind her and she spun around, kicking out the vampire’s legs and going in to stake it. Angel was gone from behind her when she got back up, and she heard him fighting one of the other vampires. Buffy called to the last, but all she heard was running footsteps. Coward. Well, what could you really expect from a vampire? Angel staked his and went after the one that was fleeing, catching it easily and staking it.
The lights flickered on just as the last vampire dust settled to the floor. Angel turned to look at Buffy. On the other side of the Bronze people were crying out in happiness and hugging each other. Blackouts didn’t usually elicit this much emotion . . . but they didn’t usually involve vampires, six feet of snow and dead bodies either.
“Thank you Angel,” Buffy said, walking over to her husband. Giles was handling the confusion and horror among the partygoers.
“Merry Christmas. Eve.”
“Best present I ever had,” she said softly. He reached over and twined his fingers with hers, their identical rings glinting in the overhead lights. Buffy glanced up. “I guess they got the power back.”
“Yeah, I found some of the power people and they said the generator was sabotaged. They were putting the back-up one on line while I left.”
“Vampires,” Buffy guessed.
“Probably. They figured it’d be prime pickings around town without power—beside this one there’s a lot of other parties going on. It’s Christmas Eve.”
“It certainly is. Well, they won’t try again. At least not tonight. They’re not that persistent. Or that smart. Tomorrow everyone’ll be home anyway. In their houses. Where vampires can’t go.”
“Let’s hope anyway,” Angel replied. Buffy sighed.
“No more talk like that! It’s almost Christmas! Happiest day of the year. Or it’s supposed to be anyway,” Buffy pointed out.
“My happiest was three days ago,” Angel said, drawing her closer. She twined her arms around his neck.
“Mine too. For all the years.” They stood like that for a long time, looking into each other’s eyes, then Buffy smiled mischievously and pulled him towards an overhang. His brow creased, wondering what she was doing. She pulled his head down to hers for a passionate kiss.
“Mistletoe,” she pointed out when she released him for breath. Well, she needed the air. He could go on kissing forever since he didn’t need to breath. He looked up and smiled. So there was. He looked down at her, his mouth curving sensuously.
“So it is.” He was leaning down to kiss her again when Giles interrupted.
“Despite your banishment of vampires, we still have a serious problem,” he said.
“We do?” Buffy asked reluctantly, breaking a little bit away from Angel.
“Just today five people have been killed by trees unable to hold the weight of snow. Several more are trapped inside their homes unable to get out. No one can get anywhere, including the police and firemen. There’s been looting, since criminals know that the police can’t get to them in time to do anything.”
“What are we supposed to do about it?” Buffy asked.
“S-something’s causing this,” Giles pointed out.
“And I’m supposed to find out what? ‘Cause that’s really not my area of expertise,” Buffy pointed out.
“I know what. Or . . . I believe I do, anyway.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Angel asked.
“It’s not entirely concrete. You see, there’s a creature that is only around near . . . holidays, such as Christmas, that grants wishes. If someone wished for snow, then it would give them snow . . .”
“Witness what’s going on here,” Buffy said dryly.
“Exactly my point.”
“So how do we reverse it?” Angel asked.
“We have to find who made the original wish and have them . . . un-wish it,” Giles replied.
“So what, we go around asking everyone in Sunnydale whether they wished for snow? I mean, it could be anyone . . . it could be *everyone*. Ever heard the song ‘I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas?’” Buffy asked.
“Wait, Buffy, remember the other night, we were patrolling and we went home early?” Angel asked. Buffy nodded and Giles frowned.
“You went home ear—” Giles began but Angel interupted him.
“You wished for snow! You said that you wanted a white wedding. Remember?”
“Yeah! Would that do it?” Buffy asked Giles.
“Probably. It’s better than nothing,” he said.
“So what, I just wish for the snow to go away?” Buffy asked. Giles took off his glasses and rubbed at his head.
“Actually it’s . . . it’s not quite that simple . . .”