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Distribution: Willow's Dragony Dreams: http://www.dragonydreams.com/
The Mystic Muse: http://mysticmuse.net
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author's Note: This is a holiday present for claudia_yvr, who asked for Spillow.
Summary: Willow shows Spike the joys of the holiday season.
Spike couldn't care less about the tree in the corner of the living room. Although the little colored lights were somewhat annoying, especially when they were set to blinking. Give him simple plain white lights if there's going to be any; much classier in his opinion.
He grimaced as he watched the Scoobies decorate the tree. They wanted to surprise Giles with a decorated tree for when he got back from running errands out of town. They had chosen a theme for their ornamentation: slaying. There were tiny wooden knitting needles they pretended were stakes; crosses of every shape, color and size; and cologne bottles filled with holy water.
Spike had officially named the Christmas tree the "Tree of Death." He couldn't cross within five feet of it without being repelled by the sheer danger of it. Despite living with the Slayer's Watcher, Spike did not have a death wish.
When Buffy, Xander and Willow began singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs, off-key, Spike covered his ears and slouched even farther down on the couch.
"Would you mind shutting the fuck up!" he finally yelled when they kept forgetting the words to The Twelve Days of Christmas as they neared the twelfth day.
"Aw, what's the matter Spike," Buffy cooed. "Come down with a case of the Grinch?"
"Yeah, Mr. Gloomy," Xander jumped in. "Where's your Christmas-stealing bag?"
"Left it in my other pants," Spike smirked. He'd always admired Dr. Seuss for creating such an evil genius, until he had to go and get that green mastermind brainwashed. Right about now he completely identified with the mean old Grinch… and smiling at him was his very own Cindy Lou Who.
Willow stood from where she'd been stringing popcorn and cranberries with a needle and thread, coming to crouch in front of Spike.
"Oh, I don't know," she teasingly said, resting her hands on Spike's knees. "I think there's a closet Christmas-lover hiding somewhere deep down inside the mean old vampire."
"Key word: vampire," Spike pointed out, relishing the contact of her warm hands on him. "Not one of God's creatures. No need to celebrate the so-called miraculous birth of 'God's Son.'"
"Jewish-Wiccan here, remember," Willow pointed out. "I don't believe in that stuff either. But I can still have fun decorating the tree and singing songs."
"Oh," Spike said, pretending to sound like he finally understood what he was missing. Raising his scarred eyebrow, he continued, "You want me to help with the tree. Why didn't you say so? Did you want me to hang the crosses or accidentally dust myself with a stake?"
Willow winced at the mocking tone in Spike's voice. "Well, when you put it like that…"
"I vote for the crosses," Xander piped up. Willow turned to glare at him. "What? May as well make it a painful process. It's no fun taunting the fang-less wonder if he gets himself dusted."
"Besides, if he accidentally does it himself, then I don't get to do it," Buffy pouted.
"Oh, shush you," Willow chastised her friends. "You just ignore them," she whispered to Spike.
"But where's the fun in that," he whispered back with a wink.
"Besides," Xander said, not liking the conspiratorial looks between his best friend and the blond vampire. "You're forgetting the best part of Christmas decorations…" he pulled out a sprig of green leaves from a box. "Mistletoe!"
"Who you plannin' on kissing, Harris?" Spike sneered. "Certainly not me, I hope."
"Not on your undead life," Xander said, his disgust mirrored only by Buffy's. Spike blew a kiss at him, causing the boy to question the sanity of displaying the mistletoe in front of Spike.
"Aww, I'll kiss ya Xan," Willow offered. Pressing against Spike's knees, Willow levered herself into a standing position.
Spike growled to himself as Willow moved away from him and picked up the mistletoe Xander had dropped at Spike's taunting. Holding it over her head, she giggled as she pressed a kiss to her best friend's cheek.
Seeing his opportunity, Spike jumped up before Willow could lower the mistletoe and pulled her into his arms, his mouth instantly devouring hers.
Willow's initial reaction to being spun around and kissed was to push her kisser away. Then she felt the firm, toned body she was pressed against, the coolness of the lips pressed against hers, and she began to kiss him back with equal fervor. She'd wanted to kiss Spike for ages it seemed, and she was not going to let this opportunity to pass her by. The sprig forgotten, it dropped from her fingers as she wound her hands around Spike's neck, one going into his hair, pulling him even closer as she opened her mouth to him.
Spike couldn't believe his luck. He'd half expected to be pushed away when he kissed Willow, not for her to kiss him back so passionately. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was listening, and hoped that Willow would want to do this again.
Loud exclamations of "Hey!" "What do you think you're doing?" and "Get off her," could be heard in the background, but they were nothing more than background noise to the two people involved in the kiss.
Willow thought that she could be content to kiss Spike forever. She would have happily spent the rest of the night right here, in Spike's arms, lips pressed together as tongues explored each other's mouths. It felt like it had been forever since she was kissed, and Spike was kissing her good and proper.
Willow's exclamation of "Hey!" was shouted in indignation when she was roughly pulled away from Spike, just as his hand was beginning to dip beneath the back of her shirt.
Spike immediately dropped into game face, snarling at the Slayer's hand on his arm as he was ripped away from the heaven of Willow's mouth.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Spike?" Buffy yelled, pushing him in the opposite direction of where Xander was dragging Willow.
"I know it's been a while since Peaches left," Spike snarked, "but where I come from it's called snogging. You know, kissing, playing tonsil hockey, with a beautiful woman."
"But why were you doing it with Willow?" Buffy pressed.
Wrestling her arm free of Xander's grasp, Willow stormed over to her roommate.
"And what is so wrong with him kissing me?" she demanded. "Is there some reason that no one should want to kiss me, let alone act on it?"
"Will," Buffy said in her most consoling voice, "you know he just did it to make me mad."
"How do you know that?" Willow asked. Her bottom lip began to tremble. "W-what if he actually wanted to kiss me?"
"I seriously doubt that," Buffy said off-handedly.
"It's not that we think you're unkissable," Xander risked saying. "Been susceptible to those lips myself," he jovially added.
Spike growled as Xander tried to approach Willow. Edging around the slayer, he stood before Willow.
"Don't you listen to them," Spike quietly said, raising Willow's face to meet his eyes. "Wouldn't 'ave kissed you if I hadn't wanted to."
"Really?" Willow questioned him, the doubtful voices of her friends ringing in her ears. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"
"Now when have I ever done or said anything to make your lot feel better," Spike said with a grin.
"Point taken." Willow smiled back, the sudden glow on her face lighting up the room. "So, you, ah, want to kiss me again?"
Buffy and Xander's loud exclamations of "No" and "Over my dead body" were countered by the sexiest smile Willow had ever seen on Spike's face.
"What do you think?" he purred, pulling her against his body.
"I think this is going to be a very Merry Christmas," Willow answered. Standing on her toes, she pressed her lips to Spike's again. A very Merry Christmas indeed.
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