A Little Story About A Tree
Remember this fic? My muse left me and never came back, so I figured I'd drag this oldie, and hopefully goodie, back into the light.
Now let's see if I remember how to post with cuts...
Title: A Christmas Tree
Author: married_n_mich
Rating: PG - nothing really objectionable
Word Count: Around 2,100
“Ho, ho, ho, my ass,” Faith said disgusted, throwing another wad of tinsel on the tree.
“No!” Buffy said. “One strand at a time. You don’t want it clunky and all over the place.” She took some icicles from Faith. “Like this.” Buffy placed an icicle over a bough.
“I don’t want it anyplace,” Faith said, dropping the remainder onto the floor. “But if I had to come up with one place to put it…” Her face took on a thoughtful expression and then she smiled. “I could probably come up with something.”
“Faith,” Buffy warned.
“Fine. Just give me some eggnog. That’ll make me all happy and content. ”
“Happy in a ‘Hey! It’s Christmas’ kind of way or happy in a ‘Happy, lookie here, I got drunk on eggnog’ kind of way?” Xander asked, untangling Christmas tree lights.
“What do you think?” Faith said, plopping down in the chair in front of the fireplace.
“While you’re there, Faith,” Dawn said, “you can hang the stockings.”
“What part of ‘I don’t want anything to do with any of this’ do you people not understand?” She snatched the stockings out of Dawn’s hands and starting looking around.
“What are you looking for?” Xander asked.
“Hammer and nails.”
“No!” he shouted and ran to the fireplace. “This is mahogany, Faith.” Xander continued talking as he caressed the wood. “We don’t put nails into mahogany. Tacks, maybe. Really teeny, tiny tacks, but no nails. We don’t want to take the chance of cracking the wood. It would ruin it.”
“I’ll ruin your wood if you don’t back off,” she said as she began tacking the stockings into the mantel.
“You knocked the bloody ladder over, you nit!” Spike shouted, barreling in the front door yelling at Angel. “I could’ve been staked on the sodding manger.”
“Is it just me,” Xander asked. “Or does it seem wrong that ‘sodding’ and ‘manger’ are in the same sentence?”
“Stuff it, Harris,” Spike said.
Dawn started singing, “‘Tis the season to be jolly,” quietly under her breath as she placed more ornaments on the tree.
Jenny sat down next to Dawn and began singing with her.
Lorne watched and listened as they sang, a huge smile encompassing his face.
“I do not understand your customs,” Illyria said. “If I were still a God people would be worshipping me and not a funny little man in a red suit.”
“Customs are important,” Jenny said. “Even if they don’t always make sense.”
“It’s called ice, Spike,” Angel said. “Get used to it.” He looked at Buffy. “He acts like it’s my fault it’s snowing.”
“Keep it up, you guys,” Xander said. “It’s starting to remind me of home.”
“Are you putting an angel on the top of the tree?” Dawn asked.
“I have no problem shoving the tree up an Angel’s ass,” Spike mumbled.
“I am going to hurt you.”
“You would be the room’s only angel,” Lorne told Dawn. “And you would be too uncomfortable up there, sweetness.”
She smiled and began singing again.
“Yo, Xander!” Faith called out. “Why kind of cheap ass wood is this?”
“Loud crack. Dead giveaway,” Oz said, draping garland over the entranceway.
“No!” Xander cried, racing back to the fireplace, noticing the huge crack in the wood. “Nails? I said no nails!”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Ran outta tacks.”
Xander grabbed the hammer and the nails out of her hand. “Do something else. Untangle lights or something.”
“You really think that’s a chore to give Faith?” Buffy asked. “Piss her off enough and she’ll be strangling you with those said lights.”
“Lights,” Oz added. “Bad idea.”
“The history of the actual Christmas light is quiet interesting,” Andrew said.
“Shut up, Andrew,” Buffy and Faith shouted in unison.
“But we’ll save that for another time then.”
“The lights will shine and sparkle,” Drusilla said as she danced around the tree. “They will sing out songs of the season and angels will cry.”
“I’ve made tea,” Giles said, coming in from the kitchen. “There are cups for everyone.”
Faith grabbed a cup off the tray, dumped the tea back into the pot and then proceeded to fill the cup up with more eggnog. “What? This cup is bigger than the one I had.”
“Why do you people think tea solves all of life’s miseries anyway?” Connor asked.
“It’s an English thing, sweetheart,” Darla said, sitting down next to him as he leafed through Christmas CDs.
“Can I have hot chocolate instead?” Dawn asked.
“I’m with Dawn,” Connor said. “I’ll take the hot chocolate with those little marshmallows.”
Giles smiled. “Willow is making some as we speak.”
“We found another box of lights,” Fred said. “Under the stairs, of all places. We’re going to have a true Texas-style Christmas.”
“I can’t reach,” Jonathon whined. “I wanted to put this on the tree and I can’t reach where it needs to go.”
Warren snatched the ornament he was holding out of his hand. “It’s always me. I have to do everything. Why do I even bother with you losers?” He shoved the piece of colored glass on the tree just out of Jonathon’s reach.
“If you two don’t mind,” Gunn said, and then turned his attention to Fred. “I don’t know about Texas style, but it’s going to be damn bright around this place. I might need to buy me some new shades.”
“Maybe it’s just me,” Fred said. “But shouldn’t we refrain from cussing since this is Christmas Eve and all?”
“I won’t cuss anymore,” Gunn said, his face lighting up in a smile. “Just for you, Fred. Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“Sod off!” Spike said. “I am not getting back up on that roof. You want Santa up there, you do it yourself.”
“Oh, yes. It was me, Spike,” Angel said. “I wanted Santa on the roof. He and I go way back.”
“They did meet once,” Darla volunteered. “Old St. Nick isn’t all that he was cracked up to be.”
“Santa and his sleigh. The little red man who follows the songs in his heart,” Dru said as she flicked a red bulb on the Christmas tree. “Red sings to me.”
“I wonder why that is?” Cordelia asked, glaring at Drusilla. She then turned her attention to the matter of Spike and Angel. “Did you two at least get the lights up before trying to kill each other?”
Giles sat down in one of the wingback chairs next to Wesley. “Sometimes these American customs can by trying.”
Wesley took the tea Giles offered him. “Why do you think I sit back and just watch them?”
“Cookies and hot cocoa!” Willow exclaimed coming out of the kitchen. “They’re done!”
“We would’ve finished sooner,” Tara said, blushing. “But Will wanted to put little smiley faces on all of the cookies.”
“Smiley faces?” Faith asked.
“Jewish here.”
“That’d explain it.” Faith picked up a box of candy canes. “Where have you been hiding these?”
“They haven’t been hidden, Faith,” Joyce said. “They have been there all along. You just noticed them is all. Sometimes all you need to do is look a little bit closer.”
“Got anything stronger than tea in that kitchen?” Spike asked Willow, nudging her with his arm.
“Watch it, Spike! You’ll make me drop the cookies.”
“That’d be better than tossing one’s cookies,” Xander said to no one in particular.
“There was a bottle of something in the back of the baking cupboard,” Tara said quietly. “I’m just not sure what it is, but it doesn’t look like something anyone would cook with.”
“Thanks, pet!” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. He didn’t stick around long enough to see a blush the color of Santa’s suit appear on her face.
No one noticed the look Giles and Wesley exchanged. It was soon accompanied by audible sighs from both men.
“They’ve located our stash,” Giles said almost as a moan.
“It appears they have,” Wesley agreed.
“I don’t know what the rest of you people think,” Cordelia said. “And granted, we hired people to put up our Christmas trees, but this thing is pathetic.” She grabbed a bunch of tinsel off the tree. “And what’s up with this? It looks like a tinsel-demon puked.”
“Hey!” Faith shouted. “I put that there. Leave it alone.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Well, that explains a lot.”
“Someone has been hiding the good stuff,” Spike said, coming out of the kitchen with a bottle in his hand.
“Spike,” Giles said. “If you’d be so kind.” He indicated his cup of tea.
“All over that one, mate.” Spike topped off Giles’ cup with the brownish liquid.
“If you insist,” Wesley said, pushing his own cup toward Spike. “And leave the bottle.”
“I can see why the holiday season is so profitable,” Anya said as she stood in front of the Christmas tree, crossing her arms in front of her. “You have the bright lights that use the electricity, and then you need the shiny, glass balls to make the lights appear even brighter. People rushing to stores at the last minute to buy items for people they either don’t like or don’t know that well, and then they make purchases out of guilt because that is what one does this time of year.” She glanced at Giles and Wesley. “And the alcoholic beverages that many people consume to get through all the so-called happy times just ensure that the profits grow.”
“Where were you anyway?” Xander asked her.
“The former vengeance demon and I have been looking for items to use in the modern tradition of hanging of the mistletoe,” Andrew said, pointing at the stairway that lead upstairs. “All must eventually ascend to a higher… floor, thus passing under that very mistletoe before moving onto the next… aforementioned floor.”
“What did he just say?” Xander asked and then looked at Anya. “You didn’t…”
“Kiss him?” Anya asked. “That would happen… never, Xander. I would never kiss a semi-employed man with shaggy hair who can speak in fluent Klingon. At least, not unless I was having sex with him on a regular basis and experiencing multiple orgasms.”
“It’s done!” Dawn shouted excitedly. All talking stopped as she pointed at the tree. “We have all the lights and ornaments and tinsel and garland done. Look at it, you guys. Just look at it.”
“Gotta admit,” Cordelia said, nodding her head. “Doesn’t look too bad. Was a little scary there for awhile.”
“Well, if we’re being all admitty,” Buffy said. “I would have to confess that this is one of the prettiest trees I’ve seen in a long time. Isn’t it, Mom?”
”Yes, Buffy. It is the best Christmas tree ever.”
“Fine!” Faith rolled her eyes. “It looks better with the tinsel-demon puke spread out and not clumped. That shit scattered all over the place does have a certain…”
“Appeal,” Angel said.
“The lights look a little blurry to me,” Giles said to Wesley. “Do you see that? Are they supposed to be moving in circles that way?”
“They’re singing and dancing. They hear the sleigh bells,” Drusilla said.
Wesley smiled. “I am not quite sure about that, but I think they do look quite spectacular.”
Giles nodded his head in agreement.
“I suppose I could put a Santa or two on some of the cookies,” Willow offered, shrugging her shoulders.
“And I can help,” Tara said. “Maybe we could put teeny menorahs on a few of them, too.”
“And I know just what to use,” Joyce said. “Follow me.”
“That,” Willow said, “we can do!” She and Tara followed Joyce back into the kitchen.
Angel heaved a sigh. “I guess if I hold the ladder a little tighter it won’t slide on the ice and we’ll be able to get Santa where he belongs.”
“I’ll hold the ladder this time,” Spike offered, his eyes glinting.
Angel glanced at him briefly, nodded in agreement and then headed out the door. Spike followed him.
“I can see why vengeance is so popular this time of year,” Anya said.
Andrew wiped a tear from his eye. “This is the most beautiful experience of my life.”
He was cut off by a chorus of “Shut up, Andrew”.
“As my good friend Tiny Tim once said, well, I didn’t really know him… therefore we weren’t really friends.” Andrew cleared his throat. “God Bless us, every one.’”
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!
Now let's see if I remember how to post with cuts...
Title: A Christmas Tree
Author: married_n_mich
Rating: PG - nothing really objectionable
Word Count: Around 2,100
“Ho, ho, ho, my ass,” Faith said disgusted, throwing another wad of tinsel on the tree.
“No!” Buffy said. “One strand at a time. You don’t want it clunky and all over the place.” She took some icicles from Faith. “Like this.” Buffy placed an icicle over a bough.
“I don’t want it anyplace,” Faith said, dropping the remainder onto the floor. “But if I had to come up with one place to put it…” Her face took on a thoughtful expression and then she smiled. “I could probably come up with something.”
“Faith,” Buffy warned.
“Fine. Just give me some eggnog. That’ll make me all happy and content. ”
“Happy in a ‘Hey! It’s Christmas’ kind of way or happy in a ‘Happy, lookie here, I got drunk on eggnog’ kind of way?” Xander asked, untangling Christmas tree lights.
“What do you think?” Faith said, plopping down in the chair in front of the fireplace.
“While you’re there, Faith,” Dawn said, “you can hang the stockings.”
“What part of ‘I don’t want anything to do with any of this’ do you people not understand?” She snatched the stockings out of Dawn’s hands and starting looking around.
“What are you looking for?” Xander asked.
“Hammer and nails.”
“No!” he shouted and ran to the fireplace. “This is mahogany, Faith.” Xander continued talking as he caressed the wood. “We don’t put nails into mahogany. Tacks, maybe. Really teeny, tiny tacks, but no nails. We don’t want to take the chance of cracking the wood. It would ruin it.”
“I’ll ruin your wood if you don’t back off,” she said as she began tacking the stockings into the mantel.
“You knocked the bloody ladder over, you nit!” Spike shouted, barreling in the front door yelling at Angel. “I could’ve been staked on the sodding manger.”
“Is it just me,” Xander asked. “Or does it seem wrong that ‘sodding’ and ‘manger’ are in the same sentence?”
“Stuff it, Harris,” Spike said.
Dawn started singing, “‘Tis the season to be jolly,” quietly under her breath as she placed more ornaments on the tree.
Jenny sat down next to Dawn and began singing with her.
Lorne watched and listened as they sang, a huge smile encompassing his face.
“I do not understand your customs,” Illyria said. “If I were still a God people would be worshipping me and not a funny little man in a red suit.”
“Customs are important,” Jenny said. “Even if they don’t always make sense.”
“It’s called ice, Spike,” Angel said. “Get used to it.” He looked at Buffy. “He acts like it’s my fault it’s snowing.”
“Keep it up, you guys,” Xander said. “It’s starting to remind me of home.”
“Are you putting an angel on the top of the tree?” Dawn asked.
“I have no problem shoving the tree up an Angel’s ass,” Spike mumbled.
“I am going to hurt you.”
“You would be the room’s only angel,” Lorne told Dawn. “And you would be too uncomfortable up there, sweetness.”
She smiled and began singing again.
“Yo, Xander!” Faith called out. “Why kind of cheap ass wood is this?”
“Loud crack. Dead giveaway,” Oz said, draping garland over the entranceway.
“No!” Xander cried, racing back to the fireplace, noticing the huge crack in the wood. “Nails? I said no nails!”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Ran outta tacks.”
Xander grabbed the hammer and the nails out of her hand. “Do something else. Untangle lights or something.”
“You really think that’s a chore to give Faith?” Buffy asked. “Piss her off enough and she’ll be strangling you with those said lights.”
“Lights,” Oz added. “Bad idea.”
“The history of the actual Christmas light is quiet interesting,” Andrew said.
“Shut up, Andrew,” Buffy and Faith shouted in unison.
“But we’ll save that for another time then.”
“The lights will shine and sparkle,” Drusilla said as she danced around the tree. “They will sing out songs of the season and angels will cry.”
“I’ve made tea,” Giles said, coming in from the kitchen. “There are cups for everyone.”
Faith grabbed a cup off the tray, dumped the tea back into the pot and then proceeded to fill the cup up with more eggnog. “What? This cup is bigger than the one I had.”
“Why do you people think tea solves all of life’s miseries anyway?” Connor asked.
“It’s an English thing, sweetheart,” Darla said, sitting down next to him as he leafed through Christmas CDs.
“Can I have hot chocolate instead?” Dawn asked.
“I’m with Dawn,” Connor said. “I’ll take the hot chocolate with those little marshmallows.”
Giles smiled. “Willow is making some as we speak.”
“We found another box of lights,” Fred said. “Under the stairs, of all places. We’re going to have a true Texas-style Christmas.”
“I can’t reach,” Jonathon whined. “I wanted to put this on the tree and I can’t reach where it needs to go.”
Warren snatched the ornament he was holding out of his hand. “It’s always me. I have to do everything. Why do I even bother with you losers?” He shoved the piece of colored glass on the tree just out of Jonathon’s reach.
“If you two don’t mind,” Gunn said, and then turned his attention to Fred. “I don’t know about Texas style, but it’s going to be damn bright around this place. I might need to buy me some new shades.”
“Maybe it’s just me,” Fred said. “But shouldn’t we refrain from cussing since this is Christmas Eve and all?”
“I won’t cuss anymore,” Gunn said, his face lighting up in a smile. “Just for you, Fred. Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“Sod off!” Spike said. “I am not getting back up on that roof. You want Santa up there, you do it yourself.”
“Oh, yes. It was me, Spike,” Angel said. “I wanted Santa on the roof. He and I go way back.”
“They did meet once,” Darla volunteered. “Old St. Nick isn’t all that he was cracked up to be.”
“Santa and his sleigh. The little red man who follows the songs in his heart,” Dru said as she flicked a red bulb on the Christmas tree. “Red sings to me.”
“I wonder why that is?” Cordelia asked, glaring at Drusilla. She then turned her attention to the matter of Spike and Angel. “Did you two at least get the lights up before trying to kill each other?”
Giles sat down in one of the wingback chairs next to Wesley. “Sometimes these American customs can by trying.”
Wesley took the tea Giles offered him. “Why do you think I sit back and just watch them?”
“Cookies and hot cocoa!” Willow exclaimed coming out of the kitchen. “They’re done!”
“We would’ve finished sooner,” Tara said, blushing. “But Will wanted to put little smiley faces on all of the cookies.”
“Smiley faces?” Faith asked.
“Jewish here.”
“That’d explain it.” Faith picked up a box of candy canes. “Where have you been hiding these?”
“They haven’t been hidden, Faith,” Joyce said. “They have been there all along. You just noticed them is all. Sometimes all you need to do is look a little bit closer.”
“Got anything stronger than tea in that kitchen?” Spike asked Willow, nudging her with his arm.
“Watch it, Spike! You’ll make me drop the cookies.”
“That’d be better than tossing one’s cookies,” Xander said to no one in particular.
“There was a bottle of something in the back of the baking cupboard,” Tara said quietly. “I’m just not sure what it is, but it doesn’t look like something anyone would cook with.”
“Thanks, pet!” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. He didn’t stick around long enough to see a blush the color of Santa’s suit appear on her face.
No one noticed the look Giles and Wesley exchanged. It was soon accompanied by audible sighs from both men.
“They’ve located our stash,” Giles said almost as a moan.
“It appears they have,” Wesley agreed.
“I don’t know what the rest of you people think,” Cordelia said. “And granted, we hired people to put up our Christmas trees, but this thing is pathetic.” She grabbed a bunch of tinsel off the tree. “And what’s up with this? It looks like a tinsel-demon puked.”
“Hey!” Faith shouted. “I put that there. Leave it alone.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Well, that explains a lot.”
“Someone has been hiding the good stuff,” Spike said, coming out of the kitchen with a bottle in his hand.
“Spike,” Giles said. “If you’d be so kind.” He indicated his cup of tea.
“All over that one, mate.” Spike topped off Giles’ cup with the brownish liquid.
“If you insist,” Wesley said, pushing his own cup toward Spike. “And leave the bottle.”
“I can see why the holiday season is so profitable,” Anya said as she stood in front of the Christmas tree, crossing her arms in front of her. “You have the bright lights that use the electricity, and then you need the shiny, glass balls to make the lights appear even brighter. People rushing to stores at the last minute to buy items for people they either don’t like or don’t know that well, and then they make purchases out of guilt because that is what one does this time of year.” She glanced at Giles and Wesley. “And the alcoholic beverages that many people consume to get through all the so-called happy times just ensure that the profits grow.”
“Where were you anyway?” Xander asked her.
“The former vengeance demon and I have been looking for items to use in the modern tradition of hanging of the mistletoe,” Andrew said, pointing at the stairway that lead upstairs. “All must eventually ascend to a higher… floor, thus passing under that very mistletoe before moving onto the next… aforementioned floor.”
“What did he just say?” Xander asked and then looked at Anya. “You didn’t…”
“Kiss him?” Anya asked. “That would happen… never, Xander. I would never kiss a semi-employed man with shaggy hair who can speak in fluent Klingon. At least, not unless I was having sex with him on a regular basis and experiencing multiple orgasms.”
“It’s done!” Dawn shouted excitedly. All talking stopped as she pointed at the tree. “We have all the lights and ornaments and tinsel and garland done. Look at it, you guys. Just look at it.”
“Gotta admit,” Cordelia said, nodding her head. “Doesn’t look too bad. Was a little scary there for awhile.”
“Well, if we’re being all admitty,” Buffy said. “I would have to confess that this is one of the prettiest trees I’ve seen in a long time. Isn’t it, Mom?”
”Yes, Buffy. It is the best Christmas tree ever.”
“Fine!” Faith rolled her eyes. “It looks better with the tinsel-demon puke spread out and not clumped. That shit scattered all over the place does have a certain…”
“Appeal,” Angel said.
“The lights look a little blurry to me,” Giles said to Wesley. “Do you see that? Are they supposed to be moving in circles that way?”
“They’re singing and dancing. They hear the sleigh bells,” Drusilla said.
Wesley smiled. “I am not quite sure about that, but I think they do look quite spectacular.”
Giles nodded his head in agreement.
“I suppose I could put a Santa or two on some of the cookies,” Willow offered, shrugging her shoulders.
“And I can help,” Tara said. “Maybe we could put teeny menorahs on a few of them, too.”
“And I know just what to use,” Joyce said. “Follow me.”
“That,” Willow said, “we can do!” She and Tara followed Joyce back into the kitchen.
Angel heaved a sigh. “I guess if I hold the ladder a little tighter it won’t slide on the ice and we’ll be able to get Santa where he belongs.”
“I’ll hold the ladder this time,” Spike offered, his eyes glinting.
Angel glanced at him briefly, nodded in agreement and then headed out the door. Spike followed him.
“I can see why vengeance is so popular this time of year,” Anya said.
Andrew wiped a tear from his eye. “This is the most beautiful experience of my life.”
He was cut off by a chorus of “Shut up, Andrew”.
“As my good friend Tiny Tim once said, well, I didn’t really know him… therefore we weren’t really friends.” Andrew cleared his throat. “God Bless us, every one.’”
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!