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"Who’s he?" Eli asked in a curious voice. Buffy searched for hers.
"That’s Angel," she said quietly, unable to look away from those eyes, from the love, the hope-and the accusation. "How long have you been here?"
"About a month," he replied. She blinked, taken aback. A few days she could understand-months even. But he had been here a month?
"Why didn’t you send word?" Buffy asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Would you have come?" he countered, and she closed her eyes against the pain in his voice, as if it would help.
"I have things to do," she said firmly, knowing she was making excuses. "I don’t have time for visits, but you could have come."
"Shh," he said, walking closer and tilting her face up to see his. "Merry Christmas."
She remembered the last time she had seen him. It was-three years ago? They had everything well in hand, and decided someone should go look for other people, see how the rest of the world was doing, and if anyone knew of a way to help. She hadn’t been able to say goodbye. She knew it would crack whatever small semblance of control she had left. So she made herself scarce, and watched him from the shadows as he walked away. He had looked over, looked right at her and she knew he knew she was there. Their eyes caught for a minute, and then-and then he turned and walked away.
"Merry Christmas Angel," she said softly. He looked at the boy standing on the bench beside her, eating a cookie and watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes.
"Who’s this?" he asked, a smile playing on his face.
"This is Eli," Buffy introduced them.
"Do you know what Christmas is?" Angel asked gently. Eli nodded enthusiastically.
"Mommy said Santa Claus always comes! And when the baby Jesus was born, there was a bright star in the sky right over his head! What’s a star?" he asked, his little brow furrowing.
"A beautiful light in the sky," Angel said softly. "Someday all the clouds will go away, and you’ll see a star."
"Promise?" Eli asked. Angel nodded and Buffy gave him a sharp look. He couldn’t promise something like that to a child!
"It’s Christmas," he said softly in answer to her look. Eli munched happily on his cookie and silence stretched over them.
"Angel found lots of other people," Willow said after a minute. "More than we thought."
"Good," Buffy replied. "Any clue as to how to stop all this?" She gestured vaguely towards the sky. He shook his head.
"Not yet. Nohing solid anyway. Buffy, I-I missed you," he said softly. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and avail herself of their strong comfort. She wanted to tell him about all the lonely nights wishing he were there, all the cold, dark days becoming nothing more than a shadow on the streets.
She sat looking up at him, silently.
When The Change first hit, Buffy might as well have been killed. She went through the motions of helping Angel and Xander find people, build the Compound, organize things and get food and water, but she wasn’t there. In the middle of a fight she would suddenly see her mother’s face and just stop. It got to the point where she wouldn’t even get out of bed.
She could still remember the morning she woke up different. The morning when it all changed. She went to bed heartsick and woke up without a heart. Or maybe it was there, but so deeply enclosed in ice that nothing could touch it anymore. She walked outside to where the sun didn’t shine and knew this was the way it had to be. And it had been. When Angel left, she didn’t see him off, afraid to break her control. When Xander died, she didn’t cry, afraid to acknowledge her own grief. She saw Willow as little as possible, afraid that her best friend’s sightless eyes would somehow see through the outer façade to the real Buffy, or the lack thereof.
It was easier this way, not to feel anything. No pain, no joy. It let her keep on fighting. She had to keep on fighting.
But looking up at Angel, she wanted to feel happy. Just for a moment. She wanted to be comforted.
"Come on, we’re opening presents!" Jessica cried, opening the door to the kitchen and peeking her head in. Willow smiled and held out her hand. Angel took it and helped her up.
"Will you come?" Willow asked. "We got you a present."
Buffy hesitated, then looked at Eli. "Do you want a present from Santa Claus?" Angel asked him. He nodded slowly, then looked at Buffy.
"Are you coming?" he asked. She sighed, wondering when Angel had become this devious, and nodded. He held out his arms and she picked him up, glad despite herself to feel the warmth of his little arms around her neck. She followed her friends into the neck room, where people were gathering around the tree. Angel sat Willow down in a chair and stood over her. A fireplace nearby crackled and Buffy blinked at the picture before her. It all looked so perfect. The children were so excited, and everyone smiling and laughing-and for a moment it was easy not to see the thinness of the tree, the threadbare clothes they all wore, Willow’s unseeing gaze above her warm smile.
"Are you going to open your present?" Eli asked.
"I don’t know," Buffy said. "Will you open yours first?" He nodded and she set him down, kneeling beside him and looking to Jessica for direction.
"Here," she said, handing him a package. He tore into it eagerly and grinned when he found a teddy bear. So the ribbon was dirty and frayed. So some of the fur was missing. He hugged it as tightly as if it were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Buffy wondered if he’d ever had a stuffed animal.
"Now you," he whispered, turning back to her with shining eyes. Buffy smiled gently, swallowing a lump in her throat, and looked up at Angel.
"Here," he said, taking something from the pocket of his duster. It was small and rectangular, and hard. She opened it carefully, steeling herself against whatever it was. She wouldn’t let it get to her. She couldn’t.
She wasn’t prepared for what she saw though.
It was a book. A photo album. On the first page was a picture of them all during her senior year-Buffy standing loosely in Angel’s arms, Xander and Cordelia actually smiling instead of bickering, Willow and Oz holding hands. Giles had taken the picture, she remembered. They were all smiling, and laughing. Xander had just said something idiotic, and Cordelia something scathing, and they’d all laughed. Buffy couldn’t remember what they’d said. What had made her look that happy. It hadn’t even been the joke as much as being there, with Angel and all of them. They’d spent the day out picnicking, and then met Angel at the library. She’d felt so happy, so carefree-she hardly remembered what it was like to feel that way.
The photo album was full of similar memories. Pictures of Xander and Willow having a paint fight. Angel and Giles with books in hand. Anya and Cordelia glaring at each other. Willow and Oz touching foreheads. Buffy hiding from the camera, half laughing and half cringing. Xander with his arm around Jessica’s shoulders. Angel and Buffy, holding hands on patrol.
All these pictures should be gone, buried beneath wreckage. All these memories should be locked away so deep Buffy would never have to remember what it felt like to be happy.
"Where-how did you get these?" she asked in a whisper, looking up at Angel and Willow.
"Angel went to Sunnydale," Willow said softly. "Do you like them?"
‘Like’ wasn’t the word. They made her insides warm, and scared her half to death because she knew she would never feel that way again, and it hurt so much. Because even if she could-wouldn’t it be betraying them? Betraying their memory?
"Buffy," Angel said softly, crouching down beside her. "It’s not a crime to live."
She looked around the room, where people grasping for their daily bread ate cookies and sipped champagne, where children who had never had a Tickle Me Elmo or brand new electric car exclaimed in delight over raggedy stuffed animals and tea sets missing all the saucers. She’d thought she’d never see Christmas again, but it was here, all around her.
"Will you put the star at the top?" Eli asked, pointing to the Christmas tree. Buffy looked up and saw them watching her.
"Thank you," a woman mouthed to her, and then another and a man and a teenage boy. People she had saved, or their mothers or sisters or sons. One held out a glass star, a little cracked, but mostly intact. She stood up slowly and took it, then turned to the tree. Christmas music started to play from an old tape deck as she set the star on the top of the tree and turned back to Angel.
"I missed you," she said softly, and then smiled. "Merry Christmas."
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light
From now on,
Our troubles will be out of sight.
"How does the tree look?" Willow asked. Buffy and Angel walked over to either side of her and turned to gaze at the Christmas tree with it’s dilapidated lights and it’s faded glass bulbs. And that one glass star, shining slightly in the glow of a Christmas light.
"Beautiful," Buffy said softly.
"Buff?" Willow asked, reaching a hand up to her. Buffy took it firmly.
"Yes?"
"Don’t go away again," she whispered, and Buffy knew she didn’t mean going back to HQ. She wasn’t talking about leaving to look for people.
"I’ll try," she promised. She looked up and met Angel’s eyes. Some of the couples had begun to dance.
"Can I steal her Willow?" he asked.
"Steal away," Willow said happily. "If Eli will come here and talk to me." Buffy smiled and knelt down, beckoning the little boy to her.
"Will you describe the tree to Willow?" she asked. "Tell her all about your presents." He nodded enthusiastically and she set him on her friend’s lap, then stood up and faced Angel.
"Will you dance with me?" he asked. Buffy hesitated for a moment, afraid to take this last step. She hadn’t danced in years. Not since The Change. There’d been no reason. Or she hadn’t let there be one.
His eyes pleaded with her and she gave him her hand and her heart and let him lead her out onto the impromptu dance floor.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Make the Yule-tide gay,
From now on,
Our troubles will be miles away.
"I miss them Angel," Buffy said softly. "I miss everything." He gathered her gently in his arms, their hands threaded together.
"I know. I do too. But they would want you to be happy."
Buffy looked up at him, surprised, wondering if he’d heard her say something about her dream to Willow and what exactly she’d said. His eyes questioned her. "I think you’re right," she said softly. She lay her head down on his chest and let herself feel what it was like to dance with him again, to be in his arms. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be safe, to be loved.
In a moment, the shadow she had become slipped away and she was herself again. Buffy. Older, sadder. But Buffy.
She knew what it was to hope again. Somehow, that cured everything.
"I love you," Angel said.
"I know."
Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.
Later Buffy described the pictures to Willow in detail and they laughed, remembering Xander’s silly sayings and Giles’ scathing glances. They opened stockings and ate more than they had in years, and told Eli all about Santa Claus and the reindeer. Angel even convinced Buffy to sing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (to Jessica’s endless delight).
Angel and Eli bonded and along with the other children set up a massive fort over half the room where they played hide and go seek. Willow had a set of brail cards and they played Gin Rummy for over an hour.
Buffy took her hair out of it’s braid and wore the shirt Jessica gave her. Angel told them all about the other people he had found. Buffy rocked Eli to sleep and discovered the feeling of having someone trust you so much they would fall asleep in your arms.
Buffy cried that night, curled up in Angel’s arms, for all that she had lost, for all the Christmases others would never see. The December air was warm, the Compound crowded, so they slept outside, and whispered promises that they wouldn’t part again. And as a clock chimed the last moments of Christmas somewhere in that dark city, the Slayer and her Angel slept beneath a bright star strewn sky.
Through the years we all will be together
If the Fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.
Merry Christmas everyone!