Title: Yule Traditions, Past and Future (2/11)
Author: Gileswench

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Christmas Eve, 1997, Giles' apartment

Giles sat at his desk, finishing up the latest entry in his Watcher diary. Buffy had been remarkably focused and eager in her duties of late. Her kill ratio was up, and she hadn't tried to get out of training since she'd lied to him and gone to that frat party.

Yes, she was doing very well, indeed. Even her insistence on spending so much time with Angel hadn't distracted her of late.

If he was honest with himself, he wasn't entirely comfortable with that situation. True, Angel was a worthy ally - he'd proved it time and again. But after all, it struck Giles as a shame that a girl with so much life and vitality should hide herself away in the dark even more than was required by her calling.

Then again, teenage romances seldom last very long, he reminded himself. And considering some of the now unfathomable choices he had made at Buffy's age, perhaps he didn't have the right to interfere. If Angel made her happy, then so be it. So much had already been taken from her, he wanted her to have anything she liked within her sadly limited grasp.

He sighed slightly. So much had been taken from them both. Her youth, his homeland, their choices. Giles didn't know if she ever thought of it, but the fact that both their lives had been so curtailed by destiny and tradition made him feel an odd sort of kinship with Buffy. And being assigned to such a bright, determined, Slayer - one who was so very much alive in the midst of so much death - took a little of the sting out of the wound.

Still, nothing could entirely take the sting out of this night. Another Christmas Eve spent halfway across the world from his home. He looked out the window, resenting every scrap of green he knew was out there, even if it was mostly hidden from his view. Green lawns, green leaves still on a very few of the trees...it was completely obscene to his way of thinking. There wasn't even a comforting blanket of rain or fog to remind him of home.

Turning back to his work, Giles sighed again. He didn't even have Jenny with him to make him forget his troubles. Lovely Jenny. So demanding, so soft, and so very what he needed to forget his loneliness. He wanted her by his side to touch, to kiss, but even more so to argue with and tease him mercilessly until she dragged him out of his mental funk and made him feel that this was where he truly wanted to be.

He sat back, pulled off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long, fatiguing day. Now it looked as if he was going to have an equally long, fatiguing night of unabated loneliness and longing for things he couldn't have.

Oh, he might have gone with Jenny, but mass nude pagan rituals had long lost their charm for him. If nothing else, he knew that most of the people there would be desperately unattractive - the sort of people, in point of fact, he would most wish to keep their clothes on. Then the combination of nudity and ritual had held a particularly bad connotation for him ever since Randall's death. Jenny meant well, of course, and may even have considered this an antidote to those horrible old memories, but he was determined not to let one ounce of the horror fade. It was a daily reminder of what darkness lay inside him. That was something it was entirely too dangerous to forget.

Or forgive.

At any rate, Christmas wasn't about the sort of rituals Jenny was off to take part in. Not to Giles. Memories crept to the fore of his mind almost stealthily. Memories of fir trees that brushed the ceiling of his parent's home, of tinsel and the smell of baking gingerbread. Memories, too, of troops of relatives and family friends coming to visit, of caroling around the neighborhood, of snowball fights with his cousins, and of the first time a girl had stood on tiptoe with a sprig of mistletoe in her hand and smacked his lips wetly with hers. It felt like a different world. It felt so very far away.

All at once, he became aware of the sound of cheery, off-key singing. It was no longer a memory. No, this was something real and in the present day. His door burst open, and in trooped Buffy, Willow, Xander, Cordelia, and Oz, all singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer at the tops of their lungs. The cacophony was nearly deafening, but Giles found he couldn't repress a smile.

"What in blazes is going on?" he demanded in a far less authoritative tone than he'd meant to use.

On the count of three, his guests all yelled.

"Merry Christmas, Giles!"

Xander stepped up from the rear of the group carrying a very tiny, rather sad looking pine tree nailed to a wooden stand.

"The Buffster thought you might be in need of a dead evergreen to brighten up the place, what with the holiday and everything," he said. "So, where do you want this?"

"Here," Cordelia ordered as she swept papers and books off the coffee table, paying no attention whatsoever to their previous order. "This is the perfect spot."

Giles grabbed his precious documents out of the girl's hands and placed them carefully on the desk. Meanwhile, the Scoobies settled in. Willow headed for the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. Xander set up the tree following the orders that Cordelia barked at him. Oz inspected the Victrola, then selected a record to put on. Buffy went to Giles.

"What is all this?" he asked in confusion.

"It's called 'Christmas', Giles," she teased. "And if you don't recognize it, then it's been way too long since anyone threw a party for you."

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help laughing. Buffy smiled back.

"I take it this was your idea?"

"Well, yeah, I guess," she admitted, "but everybody helped. Will brought cookies, and Xander picked out the tree...but I'm guessing you already knew that. Do you have any ornaments for it?"

"Oh...ah...no. All those things...well...I didn't..."

"Didn't pack them when you came here?" Buffy guessed. "Way to predict the long life for me, Giles. You didn't even think I'd make it to Christmas. But, I'll forgive you, because it's Christmas and I'm still here and I'm feeling very, very generous." She put down the bag she was carrying on his desk. "Besides, I have in this bag one ornament from everyone's house...except Will's. They don't exactly celebrate this one. So Xander picked an extra one from his house to cover her."

She began to pull the festive items from her bag as Xander approached. His mouth was overfull of cookies, but that didn't stop him attempting to speak.

"I decided nobody at my place would notice one or two things missing from the tree. I figure they're seeing enough things double that this won't make any difference to them."

"Well my father noticed," Cordelia said. "I had to tell him the maid had broken the one I took. He'll take it out of her wages."

"Cordy, that's terrible," Buffy gasped.

"What? It's not like she doesn't get paid well. My parents are very generous with the help."

The others watched in disbelief as Cordelia moved to sit on the sofa.

"Who wants tea?" Willow called, popping her head out the passthrough.

"Oh, please, allow me," Giles hastened to say as he moved to take the tray. "I'll pour. I'm sorry I haven't any cocoa or eggnog..."

"Not to worry. It's not like we expected you to have anything good, anyway," Buffy said airily. "We'll all have tea, right? And hey, it's hot, it's caffienated, and it's here, so what's not to like?"

"The bitter aftertaste?" Cordelia hazarded.

"It's not bitter, if you dump enough sugar in it," Xander said.

"Actually, I drink it straight, but then I have a donut right after," Oz said. "It's good that way. Not bitter at the end."

Willow giggled and blushed a little. The others stared slightly. Giles, in particular had almost forgotten the boy was there at all.

"So," Buffy began, "Giles, what do you usually do in honor of Jolly Saint Nick and all that stuff? What's an English Christmas like?"

"Well, it's usually colder than this," he said. "There's often snow on the ground." Sitting on the sofa, he was slightly surprised when Buffy sat next to him, curling her legs under herself and resting her head nearly on his shoulder. "Of course, the relatives all came to the house..."

"Relatives?" Cordelia demanded. "You guys all made it sound like Giles didn't have any family. I made coming here my yearly good deed, and now I find out he's not the long-lost orphan boy?"

"Loathe as I am to make myself less attractive as a charity project, the fact remains that I do have some family left in England."

"Anyway, he's talking about Christmas a long time ago, when he was young," Willow defended her friend.

"Yeah, Cordy," Xander added. "We want to hear about Jurassic Giles."

"I'm not sure why we invited her," Buffy said with a slight glare at Cordelia. "Sorry. Besides, just because there was the whole Waltons vibe way back when doesn't change the fact that there's no family here in Sunnydale. So...we thought we'd sorta try to fill in."

"Well, thank you all, but really, there wasn't any need."

"Does that mean I can go?" Cordelia asked. "'Cause I have other stuff to do tonight."

"It was very kind of you to come at all," Giles said in a less than sincere tone. "Do go now, please."

"Finally!" Cordelia rolled her eyes and headed for the door. "See ya'!"

"The rest of us can stay, right?" Willow asked nervously. "It's okay with you, isn't it, Giles?"

"Of course you're all welcome," he assured them. "And really, this was very thoughtful of you all."

"But you said there was no need," Buffy fretted. "Did you have plans? Did we mess things up?"

"Not at all. As a matter of fact, I was sitting here doing some paperwork and trying not to think about what night it was."

"So you didn't have anyone coming over from the homeland?"

"No. No, there's no one expected."

"That's sad," Willow said. "Nobody should be alone this time of year."

"But I'm not," he said with a failed attempt at gruffness. "You lot are here to eat me out of house and home."

"And hear all about a Giles' Christmas in England," Buffy reminded him. "So, snow, relatives...what else?"

As he looked about the room, Giles realized the children seemed genuinely interested in the traditions of his birthplace. Buffy in particular looked eager to hear what he had to say on the subject.

"All right," he said at last. "Let me see...well, my grandmother would make a grand entrance every year. No matter how my mother cleaned, the house was never good enough for Gran. She'd descend on us along with my aunts and cousins and uncles. The others would only be there for Christmas day, but Gran would stay with us for a week after."

"Did you like her?" Willow asked.

"As a matter of fact, I was terrified of her. She was very tall and very thin and had a nose like a hawk. She always seemed to be on the attack about something. Fierce woman. And since she thought I took after my mother, and she never approved of my mother, well...I was a bit of a disappointment to her, I think. Gran liked Simon far more than me."

"Simon? Who's Simon?"

"My brother."

"You have a brother?" Xander goggled.

Giles made a non-committal sound. Buffy looked at him sharply.

"Anyway, Simon and I would take the other boys and the girls who weren't too fussy to worry over their dresses, and we'd have a great snowball fight. That was probably my favorite part of Christmas."

"You were big with the projectile weapons, huh?" Buffy teased.

"I think I enjoyed the freedom to make as much noise as I liked," he confessed. "That, and the fact that I'd usually manage to knock Simon down at least once every year."

"I take it you weren't that close, then," Oz said.

"We were," Giles corrected him. "We were...quite close. But relations with siblings are often complicated, even when there is friendship. It's...um...it's not easy, sometimes, to express how one feels about them." He took off his glasses and polished them intently. "At any rate," he said as he replaced the spectacles, "after the great snow battle, there would be Christmas dinner. Later on, we'd go to church. Then, the uncles and aunts and cousins would pack up and go home."

"When exactly did presents happen in all this?" Xander asked.

"Oh, in the morning, before everyone showed up."

"What's the best Christmas you ever had?" Buffy asked impulsively. "When you were a kid, I mean."

"The best?" He furrowed his brow and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh, I suppose that would be when I was nine years old. Gran had bronchitis and didn't come for her annual visit, I knocked Simon down twice, and I got an electric train set I'd been wanting for a very long time. I can't think of a single day since when life seemed so utterly perfect."

His smile had turned wistful. Buffy felt sure she understood what the others didn't: that that perfect Christmas had been the end of his childhood.

"Fourteen was my best, so far," she told him, sure he would understand. "But I'm hoping there'll be a better one, someday."

"That would be nice," he agreed.

"I'm counting on it."

They shared a smile.

"But surely that's enough about me," Giles said with a breathy chuckle. "What about you lot? What do you do when you aren't descending on me like a swarm of locust?"

"Oh, I dunno," Buffy shrugged. "The normal thing was we woke up, I dumped out my stocking, Mom cooked breakfast, Dad oohed and ahhed over the Santa goodies, then we opened the big stuff after breakfast. Of course, last year was a bit funky...y'know, with the separation. And this year, we're in a whole new place. Maybe we'll start some new traditions."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Giles told her. "And the rest of you? What do you do for the holidays?"

"I have a Christmas Eve tradition of camping out on the lawn," Xander said. "For the fun. And the wackiness. We're not really big on celebrations in my family. We get a tree, most years. When Dad's working. But we sort of hand out the presents a little haphazardly. Not big on tradition."

Willow squeezed his hand gently, and the two friends shared a sad smile. The others may have known that Xander made jokes about his parent's drinking habits, but she was the only one who completely understood they weren't jokes.

"My family doesn't do Christmas, 'cause, Jewish," She said brightly. "But Hanukkah's really neat. It's sort of like Christmas except it lasts longer. Every night, while it's going on, Mom, Dad, and I all gather around the Menorah...well, if we're all home. But however many of us are there gather. We take turns saying the prayer and lighting the candle. Then, there's presents. And the dreidel. And chocolate coins. It's nice. But every year, I still sneak over to Xander's to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, and he does the Snoopy Dance for me. What about you, Oz?"

"Presents, nog, the usual. But no Santa, 'cause my cousin Jordy is the only one who still believes in that."

"What about trees and lights and Christmas carols?" Buffy asked.

"We listen to a lot of Miles Davis. And we hang a star on my mom's Christmas cactus. It's cool."

Giles poured more tea and tried to smother a smile. He wasn't sure how much truth there was to what Oz said, but it amused him to hear it. The thought of a life so devoted to ignoring and perverting tradition appealed to him on one level. Still, a part of him was sorry for these children who didn't know the joy of snow and plum pudding and Boxing Day and his father's annual reading of A Christmas Carol before the roaring fire. He supposed that, as much as anything, was the reason he'd refused Jenny's invitation. As much as he longed to break free from hidebound tradition, he still loved many of the individual things that made up the tradition. Like Buffy, he was trying to create something new while hanging onto whatever he could of the old ways. Perhaps he was truly as stuffy as the children thought him.

Still, despite their merciless teasing about his age, his wardrobe, and his Englishness, they had chosen of their own free will to spend this night with him. That, he decided, was a blessing not to be taken lightly.

"Hey," Buffy said teasingly as she nudged him. "You ever gonna actually pour that tea? Some of us are thirsty here."

"Oh! Sorry. Woolgathering," he said. "Who would like more?"

Buffy and Xander held out their cups. Willow shook her head. Oz stood.

"Where's the bathroom?"

Xander pointed down the hallway. As soon as Oz had left the room, Giles turned to Buffy.

"I hate to ask this, but are you going to patrol tonight? I'm afraid Christmas Eve is a popular night for vampire activities."

"Worry not," she replied airily. "Angel's on the case. He said to say he hopes you have a nice Christmas, by the way. Oh, and he might stop by later, if that's okay."

"Of course."

"And we all have stuff for you. Presents."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Oh yes we did. Right guys?"

The others nodded.

"It was fun," Willow piped up. "I never got to go Christmas shopping before, really. Just, y'know, for Xander. But this year, I got to get stuff for you and Buffy and Oz, too."

"Next thing you know, she's gonna be Silent Nighting with the rest of us," Xander teased.

"I will not. Jewish. Staying Jewish. But, being supportive of my friends in their not-Jewish lifestyles."

By this time, Oz had returned and sat on the floor next to Willow.

"I gotta go soon," he announced. "Jordy won't go to bed on Christmas Eve until I tell him a ghost story. It's kind of a tradition."

With a flicker of a smile at Willow, and a brief nod at Giles, he got up and left.

"Okay, so we're down two people," Buffy said. "I think we'd better hand out the presents before anyone else walks."

She rummaged in her backpack and pulled out brightly wrapped packages. The other two did the same, though Xander's were in a paper grocery bag and wrapped in the Sunday comics section of the newspaper. Everyone was surprised when Giles stood and went up to the loft, took three packages from the top of his dresser, and handed them out to the Scoobies.

"I'd have brought these out earlier," he explained, "but I only got gifts for you three. I wanted...well, you are...I just wanted to do something for you. For all you've done."

"That's sort of why we're here tonight," Buffy said. "Because we wanted to do something for you, 'cause of everything you do for us."

With that, they all fell to opening their gifts. The children ripped the bright paper mercilessly and sent ribbons fluttering every which way. Giles was more cautious in opening his packages, but looked every bit as eager to see what was inside.

Soon each had finished and sat surrounded by a small pile of gifts. Willow had received a box of chocolates from Xander, some rose-scented bubble bath from Buffy and a card announcing that Giles had gotten her a subscription to Scientific American magazine. Xander nibbled on the selection of holiday cookies Willow had given him. He'd also gotten a toy Star Trek Phaser from Buffy and a selection of superhero comic books from Giles.

Buffy held up the Xena action figure Xander had given her so everyone could share a laugh, but her eyes sparkled with more than amusement at the gift. Then there was the pretty pair of earrings Willow had caught her admiring a couple weeks ago at the mall. She looked long and hard at the small box from Giles, but waited to see what was inside.

As for the man himself, Willow had given him a tweed tie, and Xander had chosen a twelve-pack of Moon Pies for some reason. He felt Buffy's eyes on him as he opened her gift to him. When it was open, he smiled quietly to himself before holding it up so everyone could see.

It was a small award statue. The plaque read 'World's Best Watcher'.

"There was this catalogue," Buffy explained. "They'd make these with anything you wanted on them. I just sorta thought...hey, why not? I mean...why not tell you? That you're really good at it. Watching."

Giles smiled and ducked his head as his Slayer babbled. He blinked several times rapidly, then gathered himself together.

"It's...tacky," he said at length, "but appreciated. Thank you. Now, are you going to open yours or shall I take it back?"

"You are so not taking this back," she averred, clutching the package to her bosom. "It's not like you give me presents every day."

"Then open it. Come along. It's not going to bite, you know."

"It's from you. It might," she teased.

Still, she hastened to rip the paper off. Inside was a small black jewelry case. Inside that was a small gold filigree cross on a delicate chain. Buffy's fingers trembled slightly as she lifted it up for all to admire.

"It's beautiful."

"I - I know you have several already, but I've wanted you to have this for some time. Christmas seemed as good an excuse as any to give it to you."

"Put it on me?"

The others watched in silence as Buffy swept up her hair. Giles unclasped Angel's cross from her neck and replaced it with his own. She let her hair down, refluffed it, took her other necklace back and smiled up at Giles.

"How does it look?"

"It suits you."

"It looks really old," Willow observed.

"I like this one better than the other," Xander said.

"That's because you like Giles better than Angel," Buffy teased.

"As who in their right mind wouldn't?"

"Xander," Giles warned, "this is not the time."

"Anyway, the other is good for every day, 'cause it's plain and the chain is really solid." Buffy decided "This one's for special occasions."

"I know it looks delicate," Giles said, "but it really is very sturdy. You needn't worry about anything happening to it."

There was a knock at the door. When Giles opened it, he found Angel on his doorstep.

"Hey," the vampire said in greeting. "Is Buffy here?"

"Yes, yes, come in, Angel."

He stepped through the doorway, hands in pockets.

"What's everyone doing here?"

"Christmas party for Giles," Xander said. "We wanted to make sure he got some of that merry Christmas spirit."

"Well, I brought a little Christmas spirit with me, too," the vampire grinned. He pulled a sprig of mistletoe out of his pocket and held it over Buffy's head. "Merry Christmas."

The two kissed sweetly. Giles felt a sudden need to clear up the detritus of the party. Willow and Xander decided to help him out.

"What's that?" Angel asked when he noticed the cross around Buffy's neck.

"Giles gave it to me. Like it?"

"It's an antique, isn't it?"

"I dunno. He never said. But it looks kind of old-fashioned."

"It was my mother's," Giles said quietly. "Actually, it's been in the family for some time. And since I have no children of my own, nor am I likely to at this late date, I thought it should go to Buffy."

"Simon didn't have any kids, did he?" Buffy asked, though it wasn't really a question.

"No. No, he didn't."

"That's too bad. Look, if you and Miss Calendar ever get a little careless and there's a mini-Giles on the way, just let me know and I'll give this back. It should stay in the family."

"Buffy," Angel laughed, "that's a new level of tactless, even for you."

"I'm just saying..."

"Buffy?" Giles interrupted her. "It's alright. And, while I appreciate the offer, the cross is yours. Keep it. Angel, how was patrol?"

"Quiet. A lot quieter than usual, at this time of year."

"Well, maybe all the vamps heard about me dropping a church on Spike and Drusilla and decided to head for the snow," Buffy joked as she snuggled closer to her boyfriend. "What say we forgo the doomsaying and just be thankful for small favors tonight?"

"Giles?" Willow said, "We've gotta go home now. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas, Big Guy," Xander added. "You too, Buff."

"And Angel," Willow reminded him. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Angel."

"Yeah, okay. 'Tis the season, and all that."

"Oh, wait a minute, Will," Buffy exclaimed. "Angel? Mistletoe."

"I already kissed you," the vampire said in confusion.

"Just hand over the plant," she said wryly. Once it was in her hand, she nodded to Willow to come over. "On the count of three. One, two, three!"

Buffy held the mistletoe over Giles' head as she and Willow each kissed him on a cheek. He blushed and took off his glasses to clean them.

"Well...um...really, there was no need..." he stuttered.

"Yes, there was," Buffy said.

"Okay, girls, line up," Xander said, pointing to his own face. "Two cheeks, no waiting."

The girls just laughed. Buffy handed the mistletoe back to Angel.

"Aw, c'mon!" Xander whined. "Don't I get Christmas smoochies? Sure, vampires and senior citizens who aren't even citizens of this country get kisses, but what about me?"

"I'm not bloody kissing you," Giles said.

"Sorry, Xander," Angel added. "You're just not my type."